Every Color of the Rainbow
by Kitten Kisses
Summary: FE7. For the Fire Emblem 100 Challenge. 55: "Property". It just wasn't fair! He had been her escort first. He'd been paid handsomely for his work. So why was he in love with Priscilla?
1. Reunion: Kent, Lyndis

**Reunion**  
**By: Manna**

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Quick Author Note: since this is for the FE100 challenge community on LiveJournal, I am posting all 'fics I write for the challenge here. None of them are inter-connected, so you can pick and choose what you read. If you put this on Alert, I will be updating the summary with the pairing, and then updating with the actual chapter, so when you get the email, it should tell you who the updated chapter is about. Now, read on!

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**The Fire Emblem 100 Challenge!  
Theme #79: **_**Death Blow**_  
**Starring: **_**Kent and Lyndis  
**_**Genre:**_** Romance/Tragedy/Angst**_  
**Warnings: **_**Rated T for romance and violence.**_

* * *

_**...xOx...**_

That night, sleep had not come to him as it usually did, and he had gone to the stables to think. 

Her horse was saddled, packed with enough supplies to last at least a month, and as the light from his lantern poured over her, he noticed that she looked both startled and guilty. His heart fell in his chest when she dropped the reins and pressed her hand against him, muttering a soft-spoken apology before wrapping both arms around him in a tender embrace. 

She was sorry- _so sorry_- but she could not take it any longer; it was her time to leave. It hurt him more than anything to know that she spoke the truth.

The lantern found its way to a hook on a stall door as his arms wound around her back. When they pulled apart, she smiled faintly at him and ran her fingertips down his jaw line, her touch gentle. Suddenly he was whispering her name against her lips as his fingers tangled themselves in her hair. Slowly, he pushed her forward until her back was resting against the wall of the stable and after breaking away for air, he pressed his lips to her neck, leaving a trail of feather-light kisses. He sighed against her skin as she buried her hands in his auburn hair, her fingernails lightly grazing the nape of his neck. 

With one hand against the wall behind them and the other resting against her lower back, he drank her in. The way she smelled, the taste of her lips- every curve and detail was a part of who she was, and he found himself wanting to know more.

The sound of his name in his ears- _Oh, Kent…_- brought him back, and burning with shame and self-loathing for his actions, he apologized profusely.

She smiled and thanked him for his sincerity; her voice was the sweetest thing he'd ever heard. 

The utter loneliness she felt burned at him from the depths of her eyes, and his heart constricted painfully for her; he did not quite understand her sorrow, but he wanted to erase it. Pulling her close to him, he held her for a moment, but the moment turned into minutes, and she let her cheek rest against his chest as her hands wrapped around his back. 

Eternity, he decided in those few minutes, could never be long enough if it was spent in her arms.

She asked if he would accompany her, and he wanted nothing more than to do just that, but he knew that he couldn't- not right away. 

Another kiss, deeper than the others; she was the one who took the initiative, pulling him towards her with the hand that had found its way to the back of his neck. They would meet in Sacae, it was decided, as soon as he was able. The instant his duties to Caelin were complete, he would ride through the long, dry grass and feel the wind rush through his hair. With his assistance, she mounted her horse, and with one final look-_Do you promise?_- and one last awkward kiss- _On my honor._- she pressed the heels of her boots into her steed's side, and they rode out of the stable doors without a backward glance.

Two months passed slowly. The people were angry- _She is a traitor to her country!_- and they were displeased when he announced his abdication. He had not given his reasons for leaving, but it wasn't as if they had not known. He was the Steward of Caelin, but to them, he was no better than she was- _Leaving Caelin under Ostian control! He just wants to run off to be with that tramp!_- and he didn't know what hurt him more- their hate, or their disrespect. 

_Departure_. It was finally over. Time was flowing for him again, and the sun peeked over the horizon to greet the world on the morning he left to be with her. It was the beginning of the rest of his life. Beneath him, the only sound was that of his horse's hooves slapping against the sod; the reverberation was soothing in the moist, foggy morning air.

_Shouting_. It took a moment for him to realize that it was he who was responsible. His horse rose underneath him as he fumbled with the shaft of the arrow sticking out of his neck.

_Falling_. He hit the ground, and he heard a peculiar sound as he landed, but all he could see was the sky, and all he could hear was the frightened whinny of his horse as she ran as far away as she could get. 

_Breath_. He took in painful, harsh gasps of air, but his lungs could not hold them. His life flashed before his eyes, one memory scrolling across his vision before a new one took its place.

_Loneliness_. He thinks that perhaps he can understand her, now. 

_Shock_. His breathing grows calm as the blood pools around him and the grass drinks its fill. The hand that had grasped at the arrow is bent behind him at an odd angle, and his neck dips back grotesquely. Her name is on his lips, but he cannot speak. He realizes he is dying, but he feels nothing but a sense of incompleteness.

_Sorrow_. She is waiting for him, but he will not come.

_Silence_. His horse returns to the stables without him. The sun continues to rise and the light fog dissipates as nature awakens and the birds sing good morning to the earth.

* * *

_**...xOx...**_

**Author Notes:**

The switch of tenses was done on purpose. It was _supposed_ to give you the impression that the scene(s) before it were a part of his flashback. I acquired this idea on the drive to work the other day. It begged to be written, literally, all day. I wrote out a quick choppy version at lunch, but waited until I was at home to finish and enhance it. 

I hope you enjoyed it, even if it was weird/depressing/made you cry. By the way, if it wasn't obvious, it doesn't matter _who_ shot him- it could have been anyone, considering they think he is a traitor. (And that entire thing is all a matter of opinion... I would think that if Lyndis just ran off like that, the nation she ruled would not think kindly of her afterward.) 

Remember, every theme will be different. (And not all of them will be Kent/Lyndis!)

Thank you for reading! Constructive criticism and feedback are welcome, as always! Please let me know what you thought.

_Up Next:__ "Honesty Is the Best Policy"_  
Theme #40: Friendship


	2. Honesty Is the Best Policy: Sain, Lyndis

**Honesty Is the Best Policy   
By: Manna**

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**The Fire Emblem 100 Challenge!****  
Theme #40: **_**Friendship**_**  
Starring: **_**Sain and Lyndis**_**  
Genre: **_**Friendship**_**  
Warnings: **_**Rated K+**_

* * *

**_...xOx..._**

"Ahh, Princess Priscilla, you look absolutely radiant today!"

Lyn rolled her eyes in Sain's general direction as he told Rebecca, and then Farina how beautiful they looked. Priscilla had clearly just awoken- her hair stuck out in every imaginable direction, and her clothes were rumpled- and Rebecca and Farina looked the same as they always did.

"Well met, Lady Lyndis!"

She suppressed a groan.

"Your beauty outshines the sun this fine morning," he said, grinning from ear to ear. "I'm afraid to even look at you for fear of burning my eyes! Oh, it is a tragedy!"

"Sain, stop it." She glared at him and he blinked before falling into step beside her.

"Is something wrong?"

Sighing, she stopped and turned to look at him. "Sain," she said to him, poking her index finger into the plate of armor that covered his chest, "beauty is only skin deep. None of us look any better than we did yesterday! Why do you lie?"

"What? I'm not lying…" He stared at her as she walked away. "Lady Lyn!" he shouted, running to catch up. "What makes you think I would lie? I tell you, I am no liar! Beauty is through and through, from the body to the soul!"

She ignored him, shaking her head in frustration as he spoke.

"A beautiful soul makes a beautiful person."

She stopped in her tracks so suddenly that he had to reach an arm out to steady her.

He certainly didn't _look_ like he had said the most profound thing she'd heard from him in at least a year… In fact, he was just standing there with that grin on his face that said he loved life and everything in it.

"What…was that, Sain?" she asked, looking dazed.

"I said—" He opened his mouth to speak, but closed it again and allowed his gaze to follow that of a figure walking by him, her mouth wide open in a yawn. Suddenly, he turned on his heel and followed her. "Dame Fiora! You're exceptionally gorgeous today! Saint Elimine herself must have…"

Lyn shook her head and groaned.

_**...xOx...**_

* * *

**Author Notes:**

Just something silly. I like Sain, and I think he's a fun character. Sain and Lyndis have a very interesting relationship, if you could call it that. I love their interaction! Sain's comment is based on actual fact. Someone's soul and the way they act and conduct themselves can change the way you physically view them. (Not a lot, but a little bit. Physically, people that are really nice and that you like look better to you.)

Thanks for reading. Constructive criticism and feedback are always appreciated! I'd love to hear your opinions.

_Up Next:__ "Letters"_  
Theme #77: … …!!


	3. Letters: Kent, Sain

**Letters  
By: Manna**

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**_…xOx…_**

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_The Fire Emblem 100 Challenge!_**  
Theme #77: **_**… …!!**_**  
Starring: **_**Sain and Kent (with mention of Sain/Fiora and Kent/Lyndis)**_**  
Genre: **_**Friendship**_**  
Warnings: **_**Rated K+**_

**_…xOx…_**

* * *

An envelope is held in his calloused hands, its seal untouched. His fingers delicately outline the name on the front, immediately recognizing the stilted handwriting. Without another thought, Sain tears into it, pulling out a letter with a wide smile covering his face.

Kent, as curious as anyone might be under such circumstances, only watches out of the corner of his eye; he is not one to pry into another's personal affairs.

But he does wonder.

His friend's grin grows wider with each word; every dotted _i_ and crossed _t_ has his teeth showing more and more until he's almost laughing in his excitement.

Kent says nothing, but he starts to count down in his head as he runs a polishing cloth down the length of his sword.

_3…2…1…_

"Oh, Kent! This is wonderful!"

Though his face doesn't change at all, Kent is amused that his timing was spot-on. "What is it, Sain?" he asks, feigning an air of indifference.

"This is the _fifth_ letter," he tells his auburn-haired companion as he waves the parchment in the air. "I think she's warmed up to my charming personality…don't you?"

Kent, having known Sain for nearly 10 years now, still does not have a good answer for such a question. In fact, finding out that Sain had begun actively pursuing Dame Fiora had been shocking enough, but learning that she was writing him back…

Well, needless to say, he is still not over it. "She is a good woman," he replies to Sain's question because he does not know what else to say. "Why would she not reply?"

"She isn't the type to refuse to respond, of course," Sain says, standing up before he walks over to Kent and hands the letter to him. "Look, right here; read what she said." Sain points at a particular sentence as he speaks and crosses his arms over his chest triumphantly. "See?"

Kent doesn't reply- his hands are nearly shaking. _Sain, leave?_ His mind is having trouble wrapping itself around that particular thought. _But Lord Hausen is still alive… And Lady Lyndis? What of her? There is always work to be done; something always needs doing._

"But—" It flies out of his mouth before he can stop it, and he wants to take it back, but it's too late. His mind is working overtime as he numbly lets the paper slip through his fingers to fall to the floor. _You can't leave me,_ he thinks, concerned and lost and already missing Sain's companionship even though his friend is standing right beside him.

"But what?" He runs a hand through his sandy hair and strikes a dramatic pose, saying, "Just think- your boon companion may be married within the year!"

Kent blinks before shaking a few strands of his red hair out of his eyes. "What about…" His voice trails off as he loses his thought.

"About duty?" Sain adopts a serious expression and sits on Kent's bed, right next to the chair that his friend currently occupies. "Kent… you and I both know that Lord Hausen will not live much longer… And I _don't_ mean that disrespectfully."

Kent knows; he knows more than he wants to admit, even to himself. Lord Hausen is, quite literally, on his deathbed. He will be lucky to live to see the light of the morrow, and no matter how much he thinks on the subject, he has yet to determine if the pain he feels is more for the soon-to-be loss of his first-sworn liege, or for Lady Lyndis, who has been sitting by Marquess Caelin's side for nigh upon a week, hardly eating or sleeping.

"I will be leaving…as soon as things are settled here." Sain's voice breaks Kent out of his inner thoughts. "You may think I do not take my duties with as much seriousness as I should, but the woman I love wishes to see me, and I will not let her down."

The woman I love…

Sain's words echo in Kent's mind. He hadn't said, _Gorgeous Fiora_, or some other such nonsense… He had not mentioned several women in one sentence- and in fact, as far as Kent remembers, since their journey's end, Sain has only shown interest in one woman. One. He still smiles at the ladies, but he never tries to go out with them…

It hits him like a horse galloping at full speed.

_Sain…is serious._

Of course, he is happy for his friend… Sain deserves nothing _but_ happiness. Inside, however, he is shaking as thoughts continue to blow through his mind. When Lord Hausen dies, and Lady Lyndis takes his place- if only temporarily- what will things be like? How long will she continue to stay in Caelin? How long before she can't take it anymore and she leaves? How long before he has to choose between Lyndis and Caelin? Which is the right choice? The best choice for him? For her? For the-

_What will I do without you?_

"Congratulations," he tells Sain instead, and he pushes all his thoughts to the side as he allows a small, though genuine, smile to cross his face. "I am happy for you. For the both of you."

* * *

**_…xOx…_**

**Author Notes:**

Honestly, the tenses in this were ridiculously hard. Present tense for it was just fine, but with all of the past-tense references in there, it makes the words …not flow. Oh well. I still had fun writing it. Please review and let me know what you thought!

_Up Next: __"Descent"_

Theme #99: Advent of Peace


	4. Descent: Kent, Lyndis

**Descent  
By: Manna**

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_**…xOx…**_

The Fire Emblem 100 Challenge!**  
Theme #99: **_**Advent of Peace**_**  
Starring: **_**Kent and Lyndis**_**  
Genre: **_**Angst, Tragedy, Romance**_**  
Warnings: **_**Rated K+**_

* * *

**_…xOx…_**

Her name was on the edge of his lips, and he woke up screaming it; his arms flailed wildly as he frantically felt the sheets beside him for her presence.

_Oh, he'll be okay_, they said to one another. But they were wrong.

There came a morning when he woke up and he was silent; it was the first time in two weeks he had not screamed until he could do so no longer. He said nothing; he did not ask for her, but they could see the questions in his eyes. Eyes that were still wild and glazed over from fever.

_Do you not remember the attack?_ Their heads bowed low, they had sighed and mumbled, _We are sorry. There was nothing we could do._ The rest of their words were scattered to him as the brutal attack came to the forefront of his mind. _Sorry… fever… gangrene… lost… sorry… Lyndis… blood…so much blood…wife… gone… sorry… last words… already… buried… grave… you… okay?_

He broke down, then, a grown man who had lost everything except his own life; though even that hung in the balance, the scales tipping to and fro as if they were unable to determine which was worse- living or dying. He fell asleep that night, his face still wet with his sorrow.

When he next awoke, his voice was hoarse, his movements crazed. He thrashed on the bed and they ran to him and held him down, forcing him to remain still, to calm down. But all that his delirious mind could think was that they were keeping him from her, that they were drowning him, holding him under dark waves of despair that made him gasp and breathe in water.

His hair was soaked in sweat, sticking to his forehead, and he sweated all the more as he fought them, fought them for her. All for her.

He choked and sputtered, shouting her name, _Lyndis! Lyndis!_

And it was worse than any of the times he had nearly lost her before, because this time, she did not come to him and touch his face to let him know that she would be fine. She did not smile at him or kiss his cheek to reassure him. She did not do or say anything… He could not see her.

And he continued to drown, gasping for breath, wanting to swim but finding himself unable to. Perhaps his armor was too heavy? But no, he did not wear armor these days… And he saw their faces, looming over him, holding him down, trying to kill him. He fought for his own survival, his muscles tensing as he twisted his shoulders back and forth in a desperate move to get free.

Suddenly, all went dark.

When he next awoke, he only heard scattered sounds, and they made no sense to him. The voices were not soothing, but frightening, because he had dreamed of her again, as he did every night, and yet…he was awake, and she was not there beside him as she had been for so many years.

…_Don't think that he'll make it._

Leg…it's too far gone. We'll have to…

It was fiery-hot, and he smelled burning flesh. It reminded him of the attack, of the fires and the screaming and…

Of her.

He screamed, but there was nothing left in his throat to make a sound. He ripped his arms from their grips and clawed at himself in his state of terror and confusion, but they quickly took hold of him again and held him down as he twisted violently in his bed from the pain. Where was he? What was happening to him? Where was Lyndis, _Oh, St. Elimine, where is she?_

Was she okay? Was she hurting, crying, writing in agony as he was? _Let her be safe…_

They milled around the room and sighed, several days later, as one of them pulled a sheet over his head, covering his sweaty auburn hair and marred skin. _They say that a lot of people don't recover from losing a limb_, one said, shoulders sagging, perhaps in regret for the loss of their patient.

_He lost more than that_, one of the women sighed, shaking her head sadly as she finished tucking the sheet in around him.

_Yes._ The last one glanced at his body, lifeless under the blanket. _ But I think that he has found it again._

* * *

**_…xOx…_**

**Author Notes:**

Hmm, not much to say. Basically, this took place some time after the end of the game. Probably 15 or so years after the Dragon's Gate is sealed. When Sacae fell under attack by Bern, Kent and Lyn fell along with it. Just a possible "what if" scenario, but let us hope that they did not meet their end in this manner...

_Up Next:__ "Watch Them Bleed"_  
Theme #34: Revenge


	5. Watch Them Bleed: Kent, Lyndis

**Watch Them Bleed  
By: Manna**

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**_…xOx…_**

_The Fire Emblem 100 Challenge!_**  
Theme #34: **_**Revenge**_**  
Starring: **_**Kent and Lyndis**_**  
Genre: **_**Romance, Drama, Angst**_**  
Warnings: **_**Rated T**_

* * *

_**…xOx…**_

"I'm going to watch them bleed," she told the sky, her hands weakly gripping at an old iron sword that was strapped to her belt. She was still dizzy and not yet well, but…she could not have stayed in that place another second. She needed to go home, back to the place she had been raised- to where she felt she belonged.

But when she stumbled through the span of trampled grass where her people had loved and laughed and danced… her heart had fallen in her chest, crying out in an agony that was not quite physical, but that was so close it might as well have been. It was gone. The gers ransacked, handmade bracelets tossed casually into the mud, boots and sandals lying haphazardly on their sides, blood still easily recognizable on them, though their corpses were not in sight.

Choking back silent sobs, she had kneeled in the mud, numb and unable to feel the cold wetness as it covered her skin. It did not matter. None of that mattered to her. Gently, she scooped up a tiny doll, its face carved into the soft wood; she was smiling. But the missing leg and the blood smeared on the doll's face did nothing to make that smile look happy. Not happy like the little girl who had owned it until almost two weeks ago.

Her mind began to swim through the thick water that seemed to be flooding her senses. What had happened to that little girl, she wondered vaguely. Had she been scared? Had she screamed as an axe felled her with more ease than a tree? Had she cried out in horror as her mother and father and brothers were all killed in front of her before she, too, met the same fate? Had she been taken hostage and sold to some sick bastard for a handful of coin?

Her stomach twisted violently and she felt sick and dizzy, as if she were about to faint. She was still clutching that doll in one hand as she shouted to the sky of her plan- her plan to kill them all- to let them beg but give no mercy, to avenge her parents and all of the people that she had once known and cared so much about.

Her voice felt silent, hollow. She let her index finger trace across the edge of the face of the doll, and when the doll simply stared back at her with that smile, that frustratingly calm smile, she crushed it to the side of her face and cried without shedding any tears.

_I'll kill them all_, she vowed to herself, because it wasn't as if anybody was there to listen. _I'll prove to everyone that the Lorca are strong; I'll wait right here for them, I'll wait until I can wait no longer…and when they come bearing their axes and bows, I'll crush them all, I swear it…_

Stumbling to her feet, she narrowed her eyes in determination and drew her sword. The light reflected off of it and made the old thing seem almost beautiful. Her face was dry but her heart was still crying out, begging for consolation and a hug and a whispered, _It will be okay_._ Everything will be just fine._

Tenderly, she propped the doll up against the trunk of a scraggly tree and patted it on the head. "T-they'll wish they had followed me," she told her audience, her tongue feeling thick and heavy in her own mouth as she took a few steps back to begin practicing. Her sword arm was unsteady and her knees trembled under her own weight as the dizziness continued. "I'll make them pay for what they did to us," she mumbled, striking at an invisible foe. "I'll make Father proud and Mother, too. They can beg and plead and cry all they want, but I will cut their hearts out with no remorse."

She swung her sword violently- a killing blow. Her knees buckled beneath her and she fell to the grass with a soft cry. _Why won't they follow me? I am old enough…I could revive the Lorca. Why do they want us to die out? Why do they want Father and his people to fade into the background, to become nothing but a memory?_

She reached out and touched the doll's check with the very tip of her finger; it was as far as her arms would reach from where she lay on the ground, her legs still trembling with fatigue. "I won't let my people become nothing but a distant memory," she whispered, her voice hoarse. "I will not let them forget about Father…about how hard he worked to bring us all together to live happily, here… About the blood that was spilled and the lives that were taken…"

* * *

**_…xOx…_**

_Lady Lyndis…do you hate them—the ones who did this to you?_

_Do you hate them—the ones who did this to you?_

_Hate them—the ones who did this to you?_

_The ones who did this to you?_

_Who did this to you?_

She awoke in a cold sweat, her dress sticking to her skin on a cool summer night.

_Yes, I hate them. Very much._

She remembered her response to Sir Wallace. How could she not hate them, the ones who had taken everything dear to her away within a single day? Those men had been cowards; they had poisoned them all, leaving her to watch helplessly as the axes had fallen, as her father held her in his trembling arms and set her on the saddle of his horse. As she had ridden away with the sound of bloodcurdling screams ringing in her ears, forcing her to live with the knowledge that she was unable to help, that she would only have lost her own life in the process. That she was weak. Helpless.

Yes, she hated them. She would until the day they died on the sharp end of her sword; on the tip of that same iron sword her father had given her for her seventeenth birthday, they would take their last breaths, begging for a drop of mercy, for their lives, for the hope that had been snatched out from under her. And she would not give it.

But that would never happen, now.

_I destroyed the bandits of Taliver_.

His words rang in her ears as loudly as the screams on that fateful day almost two years ago.

_I want you to be happy…_

She stood up and stumbled into the middle of the camp, feeling the eyes of Heath and Kent on her. Numb, she ignored their questioning glances and found a tree on the outskirts of the close-knit circle of tents to lean against.

_No!_ she shouted to herself. _I will never be happy, now! Never._ _Their blood should have been spilled on the end of my sword. They killed my people, my family… They died not knowing my father's name. They died not knowing the name of the one person of the Lorca who was willing to punish them for their actions._

She wondered what the point had been in living when the only goal she had, had been completed by another.

_They are dead, and the people will have forgotten about Father and Mother._

Even after the camp broke up and the army started moving again, her thoughts were turned inward to the look in her father's eyes as his arms had quaked under the effort of lifting her onto his horse, as he had forced her to go while he stayed and died in her place. His arms, she could not forget them… She was small and light… He had never had trouble lifting her before. But his arms, oh…they had been nearly useless, then… And her mother! What had her last thoughts been of? Had she died alone, worried, afraid? Did she die quickly or had she lingered on for days in the scorching sun without help?

She could feel the men and women in their group looking at her. All of them wondering, all of them curious…but none of them said anything. Even Hector, who sometimes spoke without thinking first, did not utter a word to her. She found that she preferred it that way. The silence let her think about what she could have done differently.

The attack came without warning as was normal, and she tried to pay attention, but as she watched the blood staining the earth, she found it increasingly difficult to do so properly. After the previous day, after hearing Wallace's words to her… all she could see was the blood of her people, the blood that was avenged by a man who was not Sacaen. A man whose only reason for destroying them being that he wanted her to be happy… She was not happy, she was…

A horseman galloped by and knocked her violently to the ground by sticking his foot out of the stirrup as he passed. He had not seen her in time to draw his sword. She could only sit up dizzily, her hand going to her head.

Kent and Sain immediately jerked their horses around and came riding to her aid, meeting the cavalryman head-on as he turned around to finish her, and then the four men who came to challenge the knights immediately following the death of their commander. When the danger had passed, her knights came back to her, both dismounting and rushing to her side as fast as humanly possible.

"Lady Lyndis!" Kent gasped, dropping to his knees beside her as he gently pulled her hand away from her head. "You are bleeding!"

Sain was already mounting his horse and he gave the animal a gentle kick that sent it running back onto the battlefield.

"Do not worry," he was reassuring her, "Sain will be back with Serra or Priscilla soon…"

_Do not worry_.

Her eyes snapped to his face, and she could see worry reflected in his eyes, but also the calm sense of strength and sturdiness that he always seemed to have no matter what. He really believed that she should not worry. "Everything will be fine," he said.

Suddenly, tears that she had not cried on the day that her parents died started to fall.

She felt him pull back slightly, but his hand stayed on her head, trying to keep the blood from flowing. "W-what is the matter?" he asked, almost frantically. "What is wrong?"

She said nothing, and it only served to unnerve him more.

"Are you hurt somewhere else? What is it that hurts, Lady Lyndis? I cannot help you if I do not know!" His voice was soft and gentle, but scared. He was afraid… but of what? Her mind was swimming against the current.

_What is it that hurts?_ His voice rang in her mind, repeating over and over again until she jerked suddenly, as if she had managed to come out of a trance, as if she had broken the surface of the waves.

She reached for his free hand and held it in both of her own, pressing it tightly against her chest, over her heart.

Flustered and embarrassed but just as concerned as before, he blinked once. "I…I do not understand…"

"They'll forget about him," she whispered, and the sound of her troubled voice nearly broke his heart. "They'll forget about what we once were."

"_Who_?" he asked. "Who will forget?"

She buried her face into his neck, then, crushing herself against him, ignoring his armor and getting as close as she was able.

He freed his other hand and wrapped it around her back awkwardly.

"My people," she told him, her bangs gently tickling his ear. "My people will forget… The Taliver bandits were slain, but not by me… How will I prove to everyone that I am one worth leading them, now? Why was I spared the release that death gives if I could not even fulfill the one goal I needed to achieve?"

"Lady Lyndis…" His voice was hardly above a whisper as he pulled her away from him and looked into her eyes solemnly. "Why do you need to prove it? If your own people would not follow you before…why do you want them to follow you now? Why are they not proving themselves to you, instead?"

"I don't know." She shook her head forcefully, the motion making her sway a little, sighing almost bitterly. "They are afraid, I suppose."

"As you are?"

She stared at him. "My people were all I had. Ten days after their massacre, when I stumbled back to where the Lorca had thrived, still weak and dizzy from the poison, I swore that I would, with my own sword, take the lives of every last one of the filthy cowards who dared to take everything away from me." She looked away, eyes downcast. "I cannot even do that, now."

"…Oh, Lady Lyndis…" His voice broke, but he managed to take control again and he gently lifted her chin with his hand so that she was looking into his eyes. "You need to prove yourself to no one. Not even to me. The Taliver are dead… your people who remain—the Lorca—they are safe. _You_ are safe…" He gave a half-smile and let his fingertips graze her cheek. "It will be okay."

_It will be okay._

How she would have loved to hear those words from anyone who might have been kind enough to offer them so very long ago, when she had needed to hear them more than anything! No matter how hard she tried, she could not forget the doll, the little one with its carved eyes and mouth and horsehair adorning its head. The smile that was always there, just like the blood.

It was then that she realized she was trembling. Trembling like her father's arms had been on that day when he had saved her life, like her legs had been when she had pushed herself too far, like her hands had been when she slowly went through what little remained of her parents things, and like her heart had been when she had awakened one late spring day to find out that everything she loved and cherished was gone.

She fell into his arms and he caught her, wincing as her elbow cracked loudly against his armor. His clean hand went to her back, and he pulled her against him tightly, frightened by her shaking. "Shh… everything will be fine."

He held her until she was calm again, and then he sighed against her hair. "Lyndis, Lord Hassar and Lady Madelyn…they would be happy to know that you are safe and well."

"They are dead," she told him softly, her voice flat. "I was…too weak to help defend them, to defend my people. And now I have failed to avenge them properly. I…I feel…"

"Lost?"

"Yes." She turned her head slightly. "How did you know?"

The ghost of a smile appeared on his face. "I have felt much the same, lately," he answered, moving his hand to the back of her head to feel her messy ponytail between his fingers.

"I wanted to make them happy… I wanted to restore our people and avenge the death of the fallen, to make my parents proud of the one they brought into this world. Is that, perhaps…selfish of me?"

"No," he murmured. "As long as I have known you, you have never been selfish. You always think of others first. Many times, you have given Florina your blanket when the nights got chilly…"

She smiled gently and pulled away from him, placing both hands on his chest. "And when I did that…the next morning, Florina would still have my blanket as well as her own, but I would have one, too…"

He flushed and looked away for a moment before his eyes came back to meet hers. The corner of his mouth turned up slightly, and he said, his voice apologetic, "Forgive me for that, my lady. I was concerned for your health."

"Thank you," was all that she said.

After a moment of silence, he continued. "That is not all. You have cheered up Nils more times than I can count… When Ninian needed someone to talk to, you were there. When Wil was reluctant to write to his family, you encouraged him. When Lucius wanted to talk, you listened. When Lord Eliwood needed a friend, he had you." He flushed in embarrassment at the length of time he had spoken, but did not stop, continuing in earnest. He could not help but feel that she needed to hear the truth. "The people in this army…they look up to you; they look _to_ _you_. They listen to you and accept you and… think… very highly of you. _They_ follow you, Lady Lyndis… _I_ follow you."

She stared at him and blinked, her eyes dry but her heart full.

"And none of us follow you because you are the daughter of the Lorca or the grand-daughter of Marquess Caelin. We follow you because you are…_you_. You think about other people; you care about what happens to every single one of us. And we, in turn, care about you so much that if you wished us to, we would follow you to the end of the earth."

"Kent, I…"

He pulled her close again and let his head rest against the top of hers, ignoring the trickle of blood that had ceased to matter to either one of them. "Your parents… they do not need for you to avenge them to be proud of you. You have people from every country and every culture in Elibe following you without question. You are fighting for a just cause, to protect everyone—not for only yourself, and not strictly for the people of the plains or for Caelin."

She sighed slowly.

"I would imagine that…Lord Hassar and Lady Madelyn are both very proud of you. It would make them sorrowful to see their only daughter in such pain."

"I know it would," she said. "I know it would… But it's hard to let it go. I don't… I don't want to forget."

"You do not have to forget. Only forgive yourself for the things that you were unable to control to begin with."

Her breath tickled his neck. "I do not know if I can do that."

He hesitated. "…Why not?"

Her fingers fiddled with the collar of his shirt, absently rolling it between her thumb and forefinger. "I remember it," she whispered, her voice only barely audible, "and I cannot determine what was truly…preventable."

There were tears in her eyes again, and though she was not crying, her voice sounded tearful. It made his heart ache. "No, no… None of that was your fault."

"I-I know… I just…The children, and…" Her tears started to fall slowly, landing on his armor, leaving a wet salty trail before they rolled off again.

His chest constricted, and for the first time, he wanted nothing more than to pull her against him without the barrier of his armor between them. He found that he could say nothing as words quite literally failed him, and only held her against him as they waited for a healer.

* * *

_**…oXo…**_

"Is this where you want to live?" he asked her, turning around in the open doorway of a ger she had stepped into to look at what remained of the Lorca. When she did not answer, he turned around and walked inside, coming to stand beside her.

"That smile," she murmured, her voice wistful. Her hand reached out and she gently clasped a small object in her hand before she turned to him and let him see what it was she had found. At the shocked and horrified look on his face, she smiled at him, her eyes soft in the dim lighting. "I don't know why I kept her," she admitted, stroking the doll's head. "She looks just as I remember."

Kent's head was reeling. His bride was holding a blood-spattered doll with a missing limb… He was not sure what to think, or even of what he should say. "Was she yours?" he finally gasped out.

She shook her head. "No, but…" For a long moment, she only stood in silence. "The little girl… she had pretty hair… always braided. And her mother would get so irritated with the amount of attention she paid to this doll… She was…" She looked away. "She was very sweet."

His arms wrapped around her, pulling her against him.

"I could not leave her outside… Not while I stayed in. It…did not seem fair, somehow." She tilted her neck and pressed her ear against his chest, listening to his heartbeat. "She was just a doll… but I told her so much."

"You were lonely." He pressed a hand against the back of her head and tightened his grip on her protectively.

She lifted her head from his chest and let her free hand rest against the side of his face. "Not anymore," she said lovingly, pressing a kiss against his cheek before pulling away. "I… I would like to live here," she muttered to him, blushing in something akin to nervousness. "If it is okay with you… if you do not mind." She stepped out of the ger and looked around at the dilapidated buildings and miscellaneous objects scattered throughout the tall grass. When he came to stand beside her again, wrapping his arm around her shoulder, she said, sounding confident, "It will take a lot of time and effort to make this place habitable again, but it can be done, I am sure…"

"It will be done," he murmured to her, pressing his lips lightly against the side of her neck. "If this is what you want, I will do my best to make it happen. I would do anything for you."

"Anything, hm?" she asked teasingly, tilting her head back as he kissed her neck again. "Well, I will remember _that_."

He flushed, but did not back down, kissing her again before he plucked the doll from her hand and set it down outside of the doorway to the ger. "All of this," he told her, indicating the drab setting around them with a sweeping motion of his hand, "will be in the past."

Wrapping her arms around his neck, she sighed contentedly, "That would make me very happy… I…want to remember this place as it was, before. I will never forget, then…" She smiled tenderly at him, running her fingers through the short hair at the nape of his neck. "Have I ever told you that I love you?"

He smiled. "Many times. I do not tire of hearing it, though, and you know that I feel the same… Even if we cannot bring the Lorca back, we can restore this place. But not for them- for _you_."

She stood on her toes and promptly kissed him, hard. She pulled away afterward and whispered, her face only inches away from his, "Thank you, Kent…"

As he pulled her lips to his own hungrily, she backed them both into the ger and looked at the scene before her, at the buildings that were crumbling and the swaying grass, and in her mind, it was almost as if she could picture it as it had been more than two-and-a-half years before. It would never be the same, but…

He pulled away from her, his eyes half-closed as he caressed her face, his touch gentle. "I love you, Lyndis…I know I cannot always put it into words, but… I do, so very much."

…She was happy, and she had not needed to get her revenge to be as such. The past could not be changed, but the future… it was an open door. She pressed her lips against his earnestly, dragging him the rest of the way into the ger, leaving the doll, and in turn, the past, outside.

* * *

**_…xOx…_**

**Author Notes:**

Just something…I haven't done before! I know, it's the same pairing as usual, but… I've never written about Lyndis's past or her revenge. I will focus on it a bit in the next chaptered story I post, but for now… a oneshot will do.

I always wondered how she would cope with Wallace telling her that her personal goal had been taken away from her. I do think she must have been really…hurt. Definitely lost. And on top of all that, confused. I hope nobody was OOC, but if so, I'd like to know who and why.

Thank you for reading! Criticism is appreciated as always!

_Up Next:__ "What She Prayed For"_  
Theme #49: Prayer


	6. What She Prayed For: Sain, Serra

**What She Prayed For  
By: Manna**

* * *

**_…xOx…_**

The Fire Emblem 100 Challenge!**  
Theme #49: Prayer  
Starring: **_**Sain and Serra**_**  
Genre: **_**Romance, Humor**_**  
Warnings: **_**Rated T**_

* * *

_**…xOx…**_

Prayer was a miraculous thing.

Sain whistled to himself a little as he walked, relatively happy now that the Dragon's Gate ordeal was over and done with. Really, he'd had just about enough of the fighting and the dying. It was starting to wear on him, just as it was wearing on his friend, Kent, who was normally serious but never so lethargic, and even the ever-eager Wil, who was had become less and less apt to smile.

But now…it was over. He let a grin spread across his face, and he realized that he didn't really care who saw it. He passed Priscilla and waved at her, throwing her a friendly wink before he saw Rebecca—though he only waved at her…she was with Wil and would most likely try to strangle him for interfering.

It was a beautiful day. Well, technically _evening_, as the group had stopped to rest for the night, pitching tents and laying out in the waning light, just enjoying that little bit of extra freedom they had now that the Black Fang was gone.

Threats of bandits still hung around every corner, but Sain himself doubted that they would try to attack them—surely they wouldn't attempt a suicide mission by taking on a group of skilled fighters… Lady Lyndis, on the other hand, would not put it past them at all, and Kent, being so loyal and yet…so _stupid_, Sain thought, had volunteered to take the night watch…again.

His sporadic whistling stopped as he came to a tent, most likely the first one to be erected that evening, seeing as how it had been the most important of them all many times. Gently, he pulled back the tent flap and peered inside, allowing his smile to spread even further at the sight of the woman sitting inside, organizing bandages and salves.

"Oh, my prayers have surely been answered on this splendid day!" he said, coming inside to crouch down next to her. "Well met, Serra… You look twice as radiant as you did this morning!"

Unconsciously, she smiled and reached a hand behind her head to feel her messy pigtails. She knew that she really did _not_ look radiant at all… most likely closely resembling a wild banshee instead. But she giggled a little, despite herself, and turned to swat at his arm.

"You're only saying that to get me to agree with you on some matter or another," she told him, her voice rather frank though she poked her tongue out of her mouth at him to let him know she was teasing. "After all, you've probably told Rebecca and Lyn the same things several times today alone, when it's clear that I work twice as hard on my appearance!"

"Ah, but I know you do, sweetest Serra! You most likely wake up looking lovely!"

She rolled her eyes. "Well, while I do take great pride in looking beautiful every single day, I certainly won't go quite that far! I do look better than some, though! Have you ever chanced to see Priscilla after she wakes? Her hair does not look nearly so pretty when it's sticking out in every direction!"

He laughed a little at what she said and sat down next to her. "What are you doing, my dear?"

"Sorting this junk, _darling_," she answered, liking his endearing names for her, but unable to keep from teasing him about them just a little bit. "Why, are you offering your assistance?"

He looked away for a moment and put a finger to his chin, as if he was thinking. "Oh, but of course!" he told her after a moment, his hazel eyes lighting up. "It would be a terrible shame for a man such as myself to sit in the presence of a lady and _not_ at least offer to help her in some way!"

"Good." She plunked a few bandages into his lap and nodded, clearly satisfied. "Those actually need re-rolled… they seem to have been loosened somehow."

He smiled and started to wrap them up again, tighter this time, and turned to look at her out of the corner of his eyes. My, she sure was adorable when she was concentrating on something, he thought to himself. He hated to change the mood on her, but…she was even prettier when she was proven wrong!

"Serra, my dear, do you remember when you asked me about the Lady Lyndis, and whom she might end up with?" The skin at the corners of his eyes crinkled in amusement when she pouted and turned to face him directly.

"Yes," she said, her smile fading. "What of it?"

"Well… what do you think of the _real_ outcome?" He was grinning so much that his teeth were all showing, and he laughed, pointing a finger at her teasingly. "I'll bet that you certainly did not see _that_ coming… Why, you had the contest restricted to only two, and with Lord Eliwood so smitten with our dear Lady Ninian, besides!"

"You don't have to rub it in!" she sniffed, pushing her nose into the air a little bit and closing her eyes as she turned her head away from him. He found that she looked nothing short of precious like that. "I think that your Lady Lyndis is making a big mistake! Why, he doesn't have anything to his name at all, save for a horse and a sword!"

Sain fell silent and merely stared at her for a moment, feeling rather conflicted and perhaps, though he did not want to admit it even to himself, hurt. "Do you truly feel that way, my dear?"

She opened her eyes and looked back at him, sensing his discomfort. "I'm not saying he's not a good man, Sir Sain… I'm merely saying that he has no way to take care of her, that's all!"

"Ah, but you see," he said, pushing his hurt feelings to the side, "Lady Lyndis does not need anybody to care for her at all! Once Lord Hausen dies, she will be headed back to the plains of Sacae, where Lord Hector and Lord Eliwood cannot follow. Don't you think, then, that my boon companion is best suited for her?"

"Well…" Serra's eyebrows scrunched together a little in thought.

Softly, he added, "It's not every man who would give up everything he has ever known, his career, his friends, even what little family he has left! He'll leave all of that behind just to be with her. Surely you do not think she made the wrong decision?"

"…I don't know," she finally admitted to him, shrugging her thin shoulders as she shoved one last jar of healing salve into a small woven basket. "I think Lyn made the choice that she wanted, but… Does she know that there may be times out there that she'll have to do without?"

"Without?" His question hung in the air between them for a moment, unanswered. "Oh, but you see, my sweet Serra, she will never be without _love_, and that is the most important thing of all!"

"Is it?" she asked, the corners of her mouth turning upward in the beginnings of a quirky smile. "And what would _you_ know of love, sir knight?"

"I know that it is hard to obtain, and even harder to hold onto!" He gave her a charming smile and leaned closer to her, resting the back of his fingers against the side of her face. "Do you truly believe that you could never be happy without money, without position?"

She sighed and took his hand in both of hers, rubbing it gently. "I know what it is like without money, Sain. Without _anything_. I have always wondered what it would be like to have those kinds of things. I've spent much of my life praying for it so that I could experience it myself."

"Why?" His eyes were not accusing, only curious.

"So that I could finally be happy." She smiled at him and kissed the tip of his forefinger. "But doesn't everyone want that? Happiness?"

"Yes." He leaned closer, resting his forehead against hers as he lightly stroked the side of her face with his other hand. "Why did you not pray for happiness instead?"

She tilted her head, "I have been, lately. Brother Lucius suggested the same thing." She kissed the tip of his middle finger and let her lips linger on his skin for a long moment before pulling away. "For all the good it's done me… Really, that man…"

"Serra?"

She looked at him, then, and almost jumped, suddenly realizing how close he actually was to her. His hazel eyes seemed brighter, his hand on her face softer. She gave his hand a squeeze in between her own and released him, asking softly, "Yes?"

He swallowed, whether to gather the courage to speak or to buy himself a bit more time to properly organize his thoughts, he could not say. "I am only a knight, Serra, and I have only a lance and a horse to my name. Is there, somehow, any chance that _I_ could make _you_ happy? We would make a fine pair, you and I. If money is the only thing keeping us apart, it would surely be a tragedy!" His free hand was behind her head, playing with her hair, twirling it around absently.

"I…"

"I think I might have found the right woman, my dear, and you know that I have never two-timed anyone. If you say yes, I will do my best to make you happy!"

She looked at him under half-lidded eyes. "Oh, Sain, I never…" She licked her lips nervously. "I never thought you might be _serious_!"

"One chance is all I ask," he insisted, kissing her cheek. "Just one. When Kent and Lady Lyndis leave for the plains, we can go off together, with them, perhaps, if you'd like to see a new place! Or we can go somewhere else, just the two of us, and make a life for ourselves. What do you say?"

A moment of silence passed, and he felt his heart thudding in his chest painfully.

"O… Of course, Sain, of course. Where else will you find a woman as gorgeous as I am willing to stand by your side?"

"Certainly nowhere!" he agreed, pressing his lips against hers eagerly, though he was still gentle about it. "Will you come with me to Caelin to pass the time, or will you go back to Ostia until then? I _do_ hope that you won't find a man more charming than myself!"

"Never!" She gasped delightedly, giggling a little before she kissed him back and pulled away. "Mm, now don't tell anyone about this, Sir Sain. Vows of chastity, you know?"

"We haven't done anything wrong," he said, pinching her nose softly. "We can wait, can't we? Neither of us is so immature that we cannot wait for such a short period of time!"

"Well, you are right about that. I took those vows of chastity to help people," she whispered, smiling lightly. "And now that I've helped to save the world, I suppose I don't need them anymore."

"And I've waited my whole life," he said. "I can wait a little longer, though certainly we'll both be happy, even before we are married. Do you think so, too?"

"Mm, now I think that Lady Lyn knew what she was doing when she made her decision," she told him, rubbing her nose against his. "If that partner of yours is as eager to please as you are, I suppose I can't blame her one bit for taking him over the others!"

"Oh, now you are falling for my friend?" he teased, biting at her nose playfully. "I am certainly the more eloquent of the two of us, and I am exceedingly more fun to boot!"

"And more handsome." She swatted at him a little before she pulled away and stood up. "Now, really Sain, you need to leave! It won't do at all for my husband-to-be to see me looking like this! I'm such a mess right now. And do not let me forget to inform Lord Hector of this new change in plans!"

"Oh?" He stood up next to her and wrapped his arms around her in a loose hug, careful not to squeeze too hard lest his armor bruise her by pressing into her skin too much.

"I'll go to Caelin with you," she informed him, hugging him back. "After all, as personal vassal to Lady Lyndis, I'll be just as important, if not more so, than I am in Ostia! There aren't many healers in Caelin, are there, Sain? I didn't think so… But when the time comes, I'll go with you."

"Anywhere?"

"Anywhere. Well, not the Dread Isle… do not even _think_ about taking me back to that despicable place!"

He chuckled. "Certainly not, sweetheart. I want you to be happy."

She stopped and held him tighter, squeezing as hard as her arms would allow her to. "And that makes _me_ happy," she admitted. "Very happy."

* * *

_**…xOx…**_

**Author Notes:**

Sain/Serra? Oh my! I've never really written them before, so this was something a little bit different for me. This was supposed to have taken place, obviously, after their A Support and post-game. Uhm…not much else to say. I hope you enjoyed it, though, so feel free to review and let me know what you thought.

_Up Next: "__Not a Conspiracy"  
_Theme #12: Finding Treasure


	7. Not a Conspiracy: Farina, Kent, Lyndis

**Not a Conspiracy  
By: Manna**

* * *

_**…xOx…**_

The Fire Emblem 100 Challenge!  
**Theme #12: Finding Treasure  
Starring: **_**Farina, Kent, Lyndis, Dart, Florina, Fiora**_**  
Genre: **_**Humor, Romance**_**  
Warnings: **_**Rated T**_

* * *

_**…xOx…**_

"That man!" she huffed, crossing her arms over her chest and glaring pointedly at his back as he sat alone, polishing his sword or eating or… well, it wasn't as if she really _cared_ what he was doing, anyway! Why, he was so infuriating! More so than Lord Hector at some points, even! At least the blue-haired Ostian lord was anything but proper and formal and…oh, damn it all, _serious_.

It was a conspiracy, it had to be. No matter _what_ he said, it wasn't normal that she should be fighting alongside someone who only talked about duty and honor and riding to victory for the glory of whatever little hick castle he hailed from.

Just thinking of him with that completely solemn look on his face was enough to make her blood fairly boil! How had he been raised that he would act so grave all the time? Certainly his childhood had been nothing like her own! Why, she did not even have the same father as Fiora and Florina; her father had been a pirate and her mother had managed to weasel her way into his bed, and that was all; it was really the end of that story. She had grown up poor and hungry and fighting to survive. Surely he had not been through the same thing!

"Oh, I swear he gets on my nerves!" She hoped he heard her, and maybe he did, but he gave no indication, and she noticed that he was not eating like most of the others were; he was cleaning both his sword and his lance.

"U-uhm… who does, Farina?"

Farina whirled around and glared at the person who dared to intrude on her mental ranting, but she stopped short when she realized that it was Florina who had spoken, and Fiora stood just behind her.

"Sorry…" Florina looked embarrassed and only shoved forward one of the two plates of food she was holding.

Farina took it. "Oh, it's no problem," she snorted, flipping her hand over her shoulder and sticking her thumb in the man's direction. "That stifling sack of potatoes is what's getting on my nerves these days!" She huffed and sat down, shoving a bite of the mashed potatoes on her plate into her mouth. They were bland, but she didn't notice. She'd eaten much worse and much less many times before.

"Oh?" Fiora asked, stepping to one side to see whom it was Farina was talking about at the same time that Florina peeked around from behind her sister.

"Oh!" The lavender-haired pegasus sister flushed and looked back at Farina, shaking her head. "W-why would you say that about S-Sir Kent, sister?"

"I must admit, I am curious as well." Fiora sat down on a log with Florina taking the spot right next to her, and raised an eyebrow, a few green beans speared on her fork. "After all, he is quite accomplished for his age. I don't see why you would have any reason to complain."

"He's just-! He… Ugh, he's just irritating, that's all!" Farina swallowed her food and pointed her fork at Fiora. "Why don't _you_ try fighting next to him! He bores me to tears every single time!"

"Me?" Fiora rolled her eyes. "I get along with everyone without much trouble. You should be more patient with people."

"Patient? What's _that_ supposed to mean? I don't have to be patient. I'm making good money here!"

"Oh, my lovely Fiora!"

The eldest pegasus sister paled, and Florina stifled a giggle while Farina simply stared. "Great," she muttered. "Just who I wanted to see." Sighing, she stood up and set her plate on the log she had been sitting on before she walked out halfway to meet Sain. The young man was grinning broadly, gesturing with his arms wildly as he spoke. When Fiora came back, she shook her head and took her seat again, saying, "Oh, that man!"

But she was smiling.

Farina smirked. "Sis?"

"Yes?" Fiora looked up and sighed at the expression on her younger sister's face. "Farina, what is it you want this time?"

"What was _that_ all about? Have you fallen for him?"

"N-no, of course not! We're at war here, Farina! I don't have time for things like that yet."

"…Yet?" Florina stared at her oldest sister wide-eyed, her fork halfway to her mouth. "Does that mean…?"

"No, it does not!" Fiora looked all around her and then leaned in closer to her sisters. "But if it did, the two of you would be the first to know." With a small smile, she leaned back to her original position, leaving both of her sisters flabbergasted.

"Well, I'll be…I didn't think you had it in you!"

"Just be glad that "Sir Serious" over there, as you call him, doesn't use cheesy pickup lines and endearing nicknames during battle."

Farina grinned. "I would punch him in the nose if he did," she declared. "But he wouldn't say that because he's too busy being serious! Let us ride forth to victory, he says! What kind of crap is that? Who _says_ that stuff?"

Fiora looked away.

Florina blinked at the darkest-haired pegasus knight and smiled a little. "He is a…nice man," she told her, flexing the fingers on one of her hands absently. "B-but don't go thinking about taking him for your own!"

"What?" she asked, shaking her head confusedly. "He doesn't have any money, he's not out to be making a lot of money soon, and he makes less money than I do. Not to mention the way he always seems distracted during battle; that's not reliable at all! Why would I want him?"

"I, ah…no reason." Florina ducked her head, tucking her hair behind one of her ears.

"Florina?" Fiora put her hand on her sister's shoulder comfortingly. "What is it? Do _you_ like him?"

"N-no, I don't, not like that… but… I know s-someone that does… I w-wasn't supposed to s-say anything, though!"

"Oh, really?" Farina laughed loudly and crossed her arms over her chest, throwing the back of Kent's head a glare that would have frightened small children. "Someone in this army is dull-witted enough to want _him_? I mean, the guy has no social skills whatsoever. I asked him once if he had any hobbies, and do you know what he did? He _blinked_ at me like he had no idea what a hobby even _was_!"

"Farina!" Fiora scolded her middle sister and glared at her. "Don't you ever think before you speak?"

Florina was almost in tears, furiously scrubbing at her eyes with the back of one of her hands. "W-why are you s-so mean to people you d-don't even _know_?" she stammered out and stood up, fleeing with her plate as quickly as she could.

Fiora turned to her sister and sighed. "Really, Farina, when will you learn?"

"What? I didn't say anything wrong!"

Fiora sighed again, shaking her head. "Listen… Sir Kent is a knight commander of Caelin, and his liege is the lady Lyndis, who also happens to be Florina's close friend. Sir Sain, the man I was speaking to earlier, is Sir Kent's friend. And if you've seen Wil- a young brown-haired archer boy- he is their friend as well. Florina stayed with them in Caelin for over a year; they are her friends as well."

"I…guess I didn't know that. But she's so sensitive! I wasn't saying anything about Florina!"

"But picking on her friends is okay? I do not think so." Fiora smiled a little and pushed her hair behind her ears, standing up. "Though, to defend him a bit, he really does not have the time nor the money to have any real hobbies, and if you thought about it, you would realize that his duty comes before all else, as it should be."

"He's such a stiff, though… ugh…but I guess you're right. I'll be nice…r."

"Why don't you actually watch him in battle, instead of trying so hard to make him look and feel insignificant in comparison to you? Perhaps then you might understand him a little. Because really, that's the impression you've been giving off as of late… I do not wish people to think ill of my sister, you know?"

"Fine, fine. I'll try." Farina rolled her eyes and scratched the top of her head as her other sister walked away, turning afterward to stare at Kent.

_You'd think_, she thought as she studied his hair, _with reddish hair like that, he'd have a fiery attitude to go along with it, but I guess not…_

* * *

_**…xOx…**_

"You again!"

Not even two days later, and they were fighting together again.

"Ah, we meet again. Good day, Farina. Let us—"

"Don't you _dare_ say it!" she shouted, glaring at him from where Murphy stood, idly shaking one wing, looking irritated. "Your seriousness is aggravating. Even Fiora is not as bad as you are—I've heard firsthand that Sain's been working his magic on her!"

"…I am…not surprised in the least," he answered, his tone quiet.

"Ah, but she is going along with it, that is why she's not as terrible as you are! The only word that runs through your head is _duty duty duty duty_, and then probably more _duty_!"

"…That is not true." He tried to defend himself, but to no avail.

"I suppose I did forget about riding on to victory in the service of our lord, but since that's duty, it doesn't count either."

He sighed.

Silence fell over them like a thick blanket. One that was really itchy and most likely made out of wool that had fleas clinging to it, Farina thought. She wanted to scream. Could the man's presence be any more stifling?

"Let us go," he suddenly urged, kicking his horse forward, hand gripping his sword. "If I'm not mistaken, it sounds as if there is some fighting going on nearby."

He seemed to be in a hurry, but she shrugged nonchalantly and followed after, letting Murphy take to the skies, though she forced him to fly low, lest archers spot them too easily. What was it that Fiora had said? She remembered as she spotted a swordsman headed towards Kent, ready to challenge him. Oh yes, _watch_ Kent during battle. Well, she could do that.

One swordsman against him would be nothing. Surely he would take the other man down quickly without a second thought! Just in case, though, she clutched a javelin in her right hand, ready to dive down to finish the job if Kent looked like he would run into trouble.

She followed his movements closely— from the way he parried the first blow to the way he pulled back on his reins, encouraging his horse to take a few steps backward, effectively bringing him out of range of the enemy. It was no wonder he was a knight commander, she thought. Even though he was indeed young, he was good. Perhaps it came naturally.

Suddenly, his eyes darted away from his opponent in another direction entirely, and she followed his gaze, expecting to find half an army waiting for them, but instead of all that, she saw her youngest sister and that friend of hers, the supposed lady of Caelin, fighting against several enemies each. They were vastly outnumbered, and her gaze flickered back to Kent for a moment; he didn't seem to be paying much attention to his own opponent, and when she followed his gaze again to see which of the two women he was looking at, it was as if everything suddenly snapped into place.

She dove, squeezing Murphy's sides with her thighs as tight as she could as he fell down, down, and suddenly, he leveled out, and her javelin was embedded in the swordsman. "Hey!" she snapped, clapping her hands loudly right next to him before she dismounted to free her weapon from the corpse. "Hey, Sir Serious!"

It was as if she'd slapped him. He turned to face her, eyes slightly wide and confused.

"What do you think you're doing, loverboy?" she asked, acting even more annoyed than usual at him. "Go help them out! Now!"

He did not need to hear any more. He kicked his horse hard, and the mare took off at a full gallop; he drew his lance and sheathed his sword in the time it took him to make it there, making quick work of several men so that Florina could safely dive from the sky without the risk of hurting her friend.

Farina got back into her saddle and took off to help, not one to waste an opportunity that meant possibly having more fun at a later date.

* * *

_**…xOx…**_

"So, we meet again," she said to him in a relatively good mood. "It's been a few days. If you weren't so dull, I'd probably say I missed working with you."

"So it seems," he said dryly, eyes wandering around the large group of them who were ready for battle. He turned his gaze back to her, obviously not finding what he was looking for. "I need to…thank you for what you said the other day. I do not know what came over me, but…"

"Don't look so serious!" she snorted, rolling her eyes. "That's what I'm here for, I guess. To keep you from staring stupidly off into space like a love struck fool." She watched him carefully for his reaction, and was absolutely delighted to see his face flush.

He was silent.

"Also," she said, loud enough that he could hear but not the others nearby, "I know what came over you, so to speak. In fact…" Her eyes quickly scanned the crowd, finally finding who she was looking for. "Oh, there she is!" Gleefully, she leaned out of her saddle and grabbed his head, turning it in the right direction. "Right there."

His eyes widened and he stammered, not looking away, not even _trying_ to look away, "Th-that… N-no, you're wrong! I can't… y…"

"I see you've fallen head over boring heels for Lady Lyndis of all people. Why does this not surprise me too much?" She stared at her fingernails for a moment before flicking her eyes to Lyn. "So, why would a bland guy like you be taken in so completely by her?"

He flushed again, still unable to tear his eyes away from her. "I- I'm…not. My duty…"

She rolled her eyes. "Duty, yeah. Right. I don't believe you." Suddenly she grinned as Lyndis gave Nino a friendly hug. "Oh, look! Isn't that just cute? She'll make a wonderful mother someday, don't you think?"

Kent nodded dumbly for about half a second before he suddenly turned a startled gaze towards Farina. "W-what?" he asked, his voice loud.

"I mean, look at how good she is with little Nino! Though I have to admit, the thought of ten little redheaded stiffs running around is rather disturbing… I would only hope their personalities would be more like her, rather than you. No offense or anything, but she's not quite as dull as you are. A little boring, far too nice to most everyone, but she's tolerable."

"I… I…" Words clearly failed him, but his face and ears were nearly the color of his armor.

"Don't you dare deny it," she told him. "I've been watching you moping about for the last couple days, always gawking at her when you think she's not looking, sometimes staring off into space instead of paying close attention to the task at hand…" She smirked. "You've fallen and you can't get up."

He looked down at his hands; he was gripping the reins of his horse so tightly his knuckles were white.

"So this is what a stiff acts like when he's in love," she commented dryly, rolling her eyes at him. "It's no wonder she doesn't notice you. Talking to you is like talking to a sack of potatoes. They don't respond, no matter what you say or do to them."

He was trying so hard to ignore her, but his right hand clenched and unclenched around his mare's reins, almost unconsciously, so she knew he was paying attention. He probably wanted to disappear into the ground, she thought, mentally patting herself on the back. Now _this_, she decided, was fun. Making Sir Serious squirm? Nothing could be more exciting except perhaps seeing Lord Hector cry!

"Kent!"

Farina smirked. Oh, no…it did get better, didn't it? She pretended not to be paying much attention, looking off towards Vaida and Wallace as they argued yet another of their legendary battles, though her ears were definitely wide open.

Kent looked up to see none other than Lady Lyndis heading in his direction, one arm raised in the air as she waved at him. He threw a nervous look Farina's way, and the pegasus knight just _knew_ he was praying that she would not say anything in front of Lyndis.

Well, she certainly wouldn't… No, it wouldn't be much fun that way. Just watching him deny how he felt over and over was worth every second of time she had to fight by his side. There were some things money just simply could not buy, she decided, and making Kent flush to the roots of his hair was one of them!

"Hello, Kent." His liege smiled widely at him and patted his horse's neck lovingly. "I have not seen you for awhile… is everything okay?"

Farina wanted to laugh, but she settled for an all-knowing smirk.

Kent paled. "Y-Yes, Lady Lyndis, everything is… uhm…everything is fine."

Lyn's eyebrows furrowed together slightly. "Are you certain? You don't quite sound like yourself…"

"I… I'm fine…" He swallowed thickly, his body unsure as to whether or not his cheeks should blush or lose all of their color.

"Did you eat today, Kent? I know you have this habit of forgetting… You didn't stay awake all night on watch, did you? I told you not to do that anymore; you'll end up killing yourself!"

He shook his head quickly. "I-I, milady, I did not go against your orders; you know that I would never do such a thing without good reason… It would be unforgivable as a knight!"

She put a hand on his arm because she could not reach his face, her gaze softening. "I believe you," she said, giving his forearm a squeeze. "But you look terribly pale… are you sure you feel fine?"

He nodded, not trusting his voice lest he incriminate himself further.

She hesitated. "Well… If you say so… I need to get back to Florina… we have a lot of ground to cover out there today just as soon as Mark gives us the order to move out." She smiled sweetly at him and patted his horse's neck one last time before she stepped away, raising her hand in a farewell. "Take care of yourself," she told him, turning and walking into the crowd.

"Stay safe, my lady…" he said to her, though he doubted she heard it before she disappeared from his field of vision completely among the other members of their little army.

"Oh! Oh!" Farina clutched her side and laughed until she had tears in her eyes. "That was…that was absolutely _priceless_! You really _are_ about as responsive as a sack of potatoes, aren't you? I'll tell you one thing, Sir Britches-in-a-Bunch, I'm glad _I'm_ not the one in love with you! I don't have the kind of patience to just keep trying to get any sort of response out of you, over and over!"

Kent's face burned at her mockery and he looked down at his horse, saying absolutely nothing.

"Oh, come on now!" she said, wiping her eyes. "I don't mean anything cruel by it! It's just… she was practically all over you and you didn't even _say_ anything, let alone _do_ anything!" When he did not respond at all, she stopped her jesting and suddenly sobered. "If you like her so much, why didn't you ask Mark to let you fight by her side?"

He looked up, his eyes troubled, his face still red, and she wondered for a moment if it was really embarrassment on his face, or perhaps something else entirely…

"I…actually requested that Lady Lyndis and I…not fight…together."

"What? You mean you were, before? But you…and… she…" Mentally, Farina was flailing. The man never made any sense when he didn't talk, and he made even less sense when he did! Oh, why was he so infuriating? It was then that she noticed his eyes were almost glassy, they were usually a dark brown, but they looked black to her, now.

"I was…" His face burned even more if that were possible, and his voice wobbled almost uncontrollably. "I was having thoughts about her that… I should not…have had…" He nervously licked his lips and bit the inside of his cheek for a moment. "So you see…I…have my reasons…"

She fell silent.

"I thought it best to stop…temptation in its tracks…"

"But clearly it didn't work," she pointed out. "You're still completely smitten with her; I can tell these things you know. You're always thinking about her, always watching over her… I even heard you telling Heath all kinds of great things about her yesterday." She smiled at him, not unkindly, but in an almost friendly sort of way. "Do you love her?"

He was silent for a long moment, but he finally bit his bottom lip and sighed. "Yes…" he told her, closing his eyes for a moment as if to get his bearings. "B-but please do not tell anybody! It would dishonor her name…and I do not want that…"

"I won't tell anybody your little secret," she told him, grinning from ear to ear. "But you really make it obvious. For being such a serious man, you'd think you'd know some stuff? But no, you don't know a thing about women or romance or even talking to someone of the opposite sex!"

"I…apologize for that," he muttered.

"Cut that out and stop apologizing for everything. If you're going to apologize for something, why don't you find Lady Lyndis and tell her you're sorry for lying about eating today? Or what about taking Lucius's shift on watch after your own?"

His jaw dropped a little.

"Don't give me that look, Sir Serious. I know for a fact you didn't eat breakfast or lunch." She winked at him, then, smiling a little, "Don't worry, I won't tell on you. But she seemed awfully concerned… What I don't understand is why you're so severe and serious about your duties, but not where it concerns the way you feel for her."

He ran a hand through his hair nervously, the color in his face draining. "W-well… you know… Nothing is allowed to happen…"

"Oh, shut your mouth," she told him firmly, wrinkling her nose in disgust. "Look, this is the way that love _really_ works. If I find a guy, and I love him, ain't no stupid _law_ going to keep me away from him. I don't care if he's rich or poor or a commoner or royalty, or even a pirate! I'll marry whomever I damn well please, because nobody tells me what to do! And if you were smart, you would do well to remember that yourself!"

"But—"

"No, no, no. If the two of you love one another, it doesn't matter _what_ your little hick country says, the two of you can make it work. She wants to live on the plains anyway, right? That would make her _not a princess anymore_, in case you've been too thickheaded to notice it!"

"…That is true." He shifted his weight in his saddle, his face still pale, his hands practically shaking even after several minutes had passed.

"You know, even though you're about as exciting as Wallace's mashed potatoes the other day—which means not at all—and you're socially the most awkward human being on the face of Elibe, for some reason, Lady Lyndis cares about you. If I were you, I would not let an opportunity like that go to waste."

He didn't know what to say. He wasn't sure if he'd ever been insulted and given advice in the same breath, before. Well, perhaps Sain had done so at one time for another, but…

"Kent?"

He turned his head to see Lyndis walking towards him again, her expression apologetic. He turned back towards Farina just in time to see her nod encouragingly at him before he turned back to his lady. "Yes, m'lady?"

"I know I've already asked but…you still look like you will collapse any second. Are you sure that you remember eating?"

He lowered his eyes, ashamed. "I… forgive me, Lady Lyndis… I did not. I don't wish for you to worry on my account; that is why I did not tell you so earlier when you asked." He managed to force himself to look her in the eye and he swallowed thickly. "I also …took two shifts last night. I know you told me not to, but… when Lucius came to relieve me, he sounded terribly ill and I thought it would be best for me to take his shift for him… I am sorry, I meant no disrespect towards you by doing it."

"Oh, Kent… it's okay, really. You're forgiven." She smiled at him gently. "But I'm still worried about you anyway… Mark says that there aren't many enemies around—just some small-time bandits. He's sending Fiora and Florina out with Pent and Louise to take most of them down. I'd feel better if you sat this one out and just rested a bit…"

Slowly, he dismounted and nodded in agreement. "As you say, milady. I will not argue…"

"Good." Lyndis took his arm in her own and led him to a place where he could rest undisturbed, leaving Farina alone with Murphy.

"Hah," she told her pegasus, running her fingers through his mane fondly. "Even Mr. Dull-a-Lot managed to do something that almost qualifies as not boring. But now I'm bored…ugh."

Suddenly, she spotted a muscular young man bent over a map on the ground nearby, studying it intently, mumbling to himself as he scratched the back of his head; his hair was covered with a bandana.

She grinned like a hyena and dismounted, leading her pegasus over to him. "Hey, wharf-rat!" she called, waving at him almost mockingly. "I've practically solved the riddle, which means I'll find that treasure first!"

He glared at her, his face turning red in his annoyance. "Over my dead body, ye money-grubbin' witch!" he muttered, standing up to look down at her.

"Oh? I love it when you talk to me that way," she smiled at him sweetly and patted his cheek firmly with the palm of her hand, loving the fact that it sounded like a slap. "Let's say we…work together, then, eh? You know you can't solve that mystery without my help! We can compromise- we keep half and rebury the other half somewhere twice as hard to find, make up better riddles, and more intricate, complicated maps! Come on you scallywag, don't say a female pirate wouldn't be profitable in the least!"

* * *

**_…xOx…_**

**Author Notes:**

Really, this was just something…fun for me to write. I had a blast writing it, and everything from the description to the dialogue came to me very quickly. I just wrote and wrote and suddenly it was done! That doesn't happen for me very often these days. But before you can ask, yes, this was pointless. And ahh, the Kent/Lyndis is my trademark pairing. You can just assume that it'll be lurking in the shadows in just about everything I write. (I'M A FANTARD AND I'M PROUD!)

Thanks for reading! I'd love to hear opinions on this one, of course. This is my first time writing Farina.

_Up Next:__ "Smile"_  
Theme #78: Tears


	8. Smile: Lyndis

**Smile  
By: Manna**

* * *

**_…xOx…_**

The Fire Emblem 100 Challenge!**  
Theme #78: Tears  
Starring: **_**Lyndis**_  
**Genre: **_**General, Angst**_  
**Warnings: **_**Rated K+**_

* * *

_**…xOx…**_

Lyn did not cry, but Lyndis did.

Lyn was a Sacaen, and the tears of a Sacaen did not exist. She was strong and proud and fierce, she knew how to hunt and track, and she was a protector, always keeping an eye out for everyone else. Blue skies and summer days were what made her smile. Life on the plains consisted of living, of surviving, of hunting and hoping and praying. Lyn was strong; she had a sharp mind and even sharper reflexes. At night when she went to sleep, she would sometimes dream of her father's shaking arms and the gentle curve of her mother's lips as she hummed a Lycian lullaby. She would wake up feeling the tears burning in her eyes, but she would turn her head and refuse to let them fall. She could only stare at the sky until the sun rose in the east and the fresh new light spilled onto her face, urging her to get up, to begin a new day.

She would crawl out from under a pile of blankets and furs and look around, finding— for the millionth time, because it didn't matter how many times she'd checked— no one else there. It was like having smoke in her eyes. She scrubbed at them furiously, angry with herself for being disappointed, for still hoping, but the soot seemed to only embed itself further until the pain was almost unbearable, and she forced herself to pull her hands away. She would stand and take her bow and go hunting, because that was life—as cruel and harsh as it sounded to some—and it was what she had to do. The sun shone brightly in the cerulean sky, but she wore no smile.

Lyndis wasn't sure what she was. She was a noblewoman struggling with her identity, with her name, with titles and the court and being proper and having good manners. She wanted to please her grandfather so badly that she would learn anything for his sake; she had never held a quill before, but she was slowly learning to write. She could cry if she wanted to—after all, it was acceptable for her to shed a few tears; she'd lost so much, they said to her, and she agreed. Lyndis liked to learn and loved her friends, but blue skies and summer days were still what made her smile, and she would go to the hill where she could almost see Sacae; as the sun sank in the west, she continued to watch the horizon, almost as if by doing so, she could feel the wind through the grass. At night when she would sleep, sometimes she would dream of her father's deep eyes as he smiled and touched her hand gently, adjusting her grip on her sword as her mother watched nearby, learning to weave. She would wake up feeling nostalgic as tears burned behind her eyes, and she would climb out of bed and pace around her room, eventually going to her window. Lyndis would watch the sun rise, and when the it reached a point in the sky where the light was so bright it nearly blinded her, she let them fall, slowly at first, but she could not control them, and soon she was sobbing for all that she had lost, wiping her eyes on the skirt of her nightgown, glad—so very glad—that no one else could see her.

When the light of the sun stopped glaring off of the glass, she would turn around and get dressed before leaving her room, her eyes dry, her posture rigid and worthy of her title, her heart heavy, and her lips curved into a smile that Hausen would say reminded him of Madelyn.

* * *

_**…xOx…**_

**Author Notes:**

Just something…interesting? Well, I thought it would be fun to write. The whole controversy of what Lyn prefers to be called is what this is all about, I guess. It's almost like she's two sides of one coin. Hopefully you got something out of this, even if I only managed to confuse you. Thanks so much for reading! Feedback is greatly appreciated, as always.

_Up Next: __"Without You"_  
Theme #92: Happiness


	9. Without You: Kent, Lyndis

**Without You   
By: Manna**

* * *

_**…xOx…**_

The Fire Emblem 100 Challenge!  
**Theme #92: Happiness  
Starring: **_**Kent, Lyndis**_  
**Genre: **_**Drama, Angst, Romance**_  
**Warnings: **_**Rated T**_

* * *

**_…xOx…_**

His chest ached painfully when he saw the axe of the enemy hack viciously into her arm, his lady Lyndis, the woman he'd sworn to protect until the end of his days.

_Stay by my side always_, she had said to him, and the words echoed in his head as he watched her stumble backward, her arm hanging at her side uselessly. A grunt squeezed its way out of the back of his throat as he tried to pull his lance from the hired sword in front of him; the tip broke off, and he cast his weapon to the side as the man fell, drawing his own sword immediately afterward.

Suddenly, she was at his side again, wielding the Mani Katti with her left hand; the blade trembled like an aspen tree's leaves in a light breeze.

"Lady Lyndis," he said, drawing his arm around her momentarily to bring her behind him, "you must go." He did not want to send her away, didn't want her to leave his side for even an instant, but was there any choice? There were too many foes and only the two of them, and she was in no condition to fight. He stole a glance at her, at the blood dripping from the fingertips of her worthless arm, and he knew without a shadow of a doubt that she would die on the battlefield, unable to even defend herself. Guilt clawed at him. He had allowed such a thing to befall her. It was his fault.

"B-But Kent; Kent, I can't…" He heard her swallow thickly as she tried to force the tears of pain back into her eyes. "You can't fight all of them, not…not alone…"

He shook his head, his sweat-soaked hair sticking to his forehead and the back of his neck. "Go, Lady Lyndis, please go!" He moved his body, completely overshadowing her smaller frame with his own. They had been fighting for so long, he thought, so very long. She would not last much longer, not in her condition. Not with only one arm working and the other not functioning at all, not as tired as she was.

It frightened him to picture her crumpling to the ground in a dead faint from the pain, from blood loss, because he knew what could happen to her, then. The possibilities were endless, and his stomach tightened with unease.

"K-Kent…"

He felt her hand touch his arm, and it broke his heart to do it, but he shook her off, assuming an offensive stance. "If you do not seek medical help now, milady, you will never have the use of that arm again." She might not ever have use of it again, anyway, he told himself, but shook that thought away almost as soon as it arrived in his mind, because he would think she was perfect no matter what; it would not change the way he viewed her if she never regained use of it. But the guilt was still there, and he steeled his eyes against his own thoughts—thoughts of what could happen to her if she stayed with him.

If he fell, she would surely die, too… If he turned away, if he let his guard down, if he wasn't paying strict enough attention to everything around them, she could be cut down where she stood, and easily so without any real way of defending herself.

"But…" She wavered, clearly torn between staying with him or doing as he wanted her to do.

He whirled around to face her, his eyes clouded with worry for her safety, the knowledge that he would never see her again, and his love for her; it was a love that would go on forever without ceasing, without faltering. He dropped his own sword when she did not move and, ignoring the men that were closing in on them with every breath he took, he wrapped his arms around her in a fierce hug, taking care not to come close to her injured limb. "Now go, Lyn," he whispered, his voice rough and hoarse but mostly just tender and full of warmth. Gently, he turned her body away from his and pushed her in the direction he knew Serra would be in.

She started to walk away, but glanced at him over her shoulder, gingerly holding her useless limb to her side. Her steps faltered, but he turned away from her and picked up his sword from the ground, holding it in a position that indicated he was ready to attack.

_Stay safe, milady…_

"Kent…" he heard her whisper, her voice clogged with tears and uncertainty.

He clenched his jaw and swung his sword upward to parry a blow meant for his neck; the man had advanced quickly and Kent was almost unprepared. Teeth grinding slightly, he pushed his opponent backward in the direction of the others that were waiting for him. "Get out of here, Lyndis!" he shouted over the clanging of swords and armor. "Leave me!"

After some hesitation and a whispered, _I don't care about my blasted arm_, he heard her boots thud lightly against the earth as she fled from the scene and he breathed an internal sigh of relief, glad that she would be out of danger.

_Do you think that I want to die?_ he thought to himself as men came at him from the front and sides, weapons raised. _Do you think that dying and leaving you alone makes me happy?_ His own limbs were tired and his heart was racing. He yanked his sword out of the man in front of him and rushed another who was closing in on him.

_Don't you know that I've wanted nothing more these last two years than to live the rest of my life with you, to wake up in the morning to see your face beside mine, to breathe your name against your lips?_ His first swing missed, and he only barely managed to dodge a slash that would have slit his throat wide open. Oh, what he wouldn't give for his horse, but she was gone, and soon he would be joining her. He would take down as many as he could before then, he knew, but he was feeling weaker with every passing second. Vaguely, he wondered how much longer he would last.

_I'm doing this for you, Lyndis… All for you…_

There! His opponent fell and he turned on his heel to meet the swords of two mercenaries with at least half a dozen more headed his way. The first one he took out easily enough—the boy, not quite a man, was not experienced in battle—but the second provided serious competition before he, too, fell, leaving the redheaded knight with a painful burning in his left arm. Kent could only look up and raise his sword in a half-hearted challenge to those that remained.

_Because I know that if I fall, you will be fine; eventually, you will find happiness._

It was a timeless whirlwind of blocking and swinging and shouting that may or may not have been his own. He took one man down only to see that another seemed to take his place. His throat was dry and his body and hands were slick with sweat as the battle raged on.

_But I… Lyndis, without you…Without you, I—_

He gasped, eyes widening at the searing pain in his abdomen, and he looked down to see a lance buried there, the tip digging grotesquely into his flesh. His blood, warm and precious, dribbled down his stomach and soaked into the material of his shirt and pants. He blinked and looked up, fighting the dizziness and the pitch black that was spreading over the edges of his vision. One man stood in front of him, his expression grim; Kent's mind spun with the knowledge that this was the last one. He coughed weakly and gripped his sword with what strength he had left.

_Without you, Lyn, I could never be happy._

He felt the violent twist inside of him as his final opponent yanked the weapon out of his body, and he stumbled forward. That was his enemy's fatal mistake; Kent lifted his sword and buried it in the heart of the man who had bested him, who had taken him away from his Lyndis, his love, his life, his future. His legs trembled as he stood in the middle of the battlefield, and he turned his head slightly, looking for her, wanting to glimpse her long hair and her gentle smile one final time. Just once more.

But there was no one there except the bodies of the men he had slain. The world spun around him and, as he pitched forward crumpling to the ground, his vision going black, he wondered hazily if she would be proud of him. Had he done well by her? He had lived for her and he had died for her, but something gnawed at the back of his mind as he lay in a heap on the blood-soaked soil.

Perhaps, he thought, it was regret.

* * *

**_…xOx…_**

His words sounded harsh in her ears; his order to leave him burned in the back of her mind as she fled, doing exactly as he had asked. Later, she would not be able to recall why his words had hurt, only that they had. He had told her many times that he did not doubt her abilities, but she knew in that moment that he did. And why wouldn't he?

She nearly tripped over a corpse, and even the adrenaline rushing through her veins was not enough to subdue the crippling pain in her arm that followed. She gasped, choking back a whimper and clutched her arm to her side tighter, looking desperately for Serra, for Priscilla, for Pent, for _any damn person who might be able to help._

"Oh, Saint Elimine above!" the voice sounded familiar, and she stopped suddenly, whirling around to see Eliwood standing only a few yards away, his mouth open in horror. "Lyndis, what happened to you?"

"Lyn?" Florina peered out from behind the redheaded lord, and the shy knight took a few steps backward, stumbling in shock when she saw the state her friend was in.

Hector put his hand on Florina's shoulder, keeping her from continuing. "But I thought…" His eyes narrowed, and Lyndis did not know if he was angry with her or with someone else. "I thought Kent was with you?"

"He is! He was!" She couldn't let go of her arm, couldn't hardly see straight. Eliwood and Hector and Florina were vague hazy portraits standing before her. "I need, I need…" Frantic, she turned, seeking someone that could help. "I need a cleric, anyone, please, he can't do that alone, I know he can't, he…"

She gagged, suddenly feeling like throwing up. Why had she left him there? Surely he would die against such terrible odds…

"I need him," she mumbled under her breath, her feet shuffling as if she intended to go back to him. "I must… I have to go back to him…"

_Why?_ Her mind asked her the question, and she stood there, eyes blinking slowly as sleep threatened her where she stood. Why? Why else? She needed him, wanted him with her, counted and depended on him, hoped to someday wake up to see him lying beside her. _I love him._

"Serra!" Hector's loud voice shook only slightly, most likely because of Lyn's state of unease, but it was still powerful and demanded that everyone listen.

The cleric came running up to them shortly afterward, trailed by Lucius. Lyn did not wait for them. She turned on her heel and ran, her steps faltering only a few times as Elibe swam around her. Serra's horrified gasp of, "Oh, Lyn!" went unheeded.

She had one intention, one goal, one thought coursing through her veins: _Kent._

She knew they were behind her, all five of them, and she knew that she was the only one that could lead them to where he was.

A splash of red on the ground… No, that was not him, that was blood. Blood…so much blood. Was it his blood? No, it couldn't be his, she prayed that it would not be his. _Oh Father Sky and Mother Earth, please don't let that be his blood, _because there was so much blood, far too much blood. If that was his blood, he would not be alive.

But no, the body lying in the blood was not his, and she sighed with relief, feeling guilty and happy at the same time.

Oh! There, there! She fell on her knees, hands reaching for his head, grasping at the hair that was unmistakably his. There was a lot of blood, her knees were soaked in his blood, her dress lying in it, but she did not care, couldn't care, refused to care.

It was his, a part of him, and she loved him. Why would she mind it? It was her fault for leaving him, she deserved far worse. _Oh, Kent…_ He always tried so hard. Why did he try so hard? _I love you, Kent… Please, don't leave me._

Her fingers trembling, she let go of her arm and turned him over. Her vision was so blurry that she couldn't tell if his eyes were open or closed, but they could see the blood on his stomach, and she felt her heart clench in agony, knowing that such a wound could easily be fatal. Her hand was on his face, stroking his cheek, "It's okay, everything is fine, I'm here, I'm here now, I'm sorry I left, I shouldn't have left, please forgive me for leaving you."

Her words were so soft that the others could not understand them, but they stood awkwardly to the side before Lucius put his hand on Eliwood's arm. "He might yet live," he murmured in his usual quiet voice. "But we have to look at him to know for certain."

He had promised to stay by her side… Why had she not done the same?

Kent did not respond to her words or her touch, and she couldn't stop the tears that started to fall. He always responded, always said or did something. He usually flushed, she remembered, and backed away nervously, unsure of what to do. But he did nothing, only laid in his own blood, and suddenly she was scared.

She fell against him as her adrenaline ran out, trying to bite back a pained cry when her arm landed on his armor, but she failed.

Eliwood was there, pulling her up and out of the way, into his arms, turning her head away from her fallen knight. "They need to look at him, Lyndis," he was saying, his voice smooth and mostly calm.

She struggled for a moment, but felt Florina's hand grasp her useless arm, ignoring the blood to pick it up, settling it on her stomach so that it did not dangle there.

"We need to get you back to camp," her redheaded friend said, and he started to walk away with her still in his arms, ignoring her squirms of protest.

"No," she tried to say. "No, I can't leave him, not again. Please, not again…" She was crying still, the tears born of fear and regret and worry.

As Eliwood walked away, she glanced out of the corner of her eyes, struggling to see him, the man she'd left behind to die, and saw Hector, the big oaf that he was, gently lifting her knight off of the ground, not frightened of his blood or embarrassed of being careful with him, and suddenly, she felt a surge of respect for him. Perhaps, she thought as darkness closed in around her, the Ostian lord could be trusted around Florina, after all…

* * *

**_…xOx…_**

She awoke, hours later, to the feel of a hand running through her hair. The fingertips brushed lightly against her forehead, and as her eyes fluttered open, his name was on her lips, half-hoping that it would be him there.

"…Kent?"

"No." The voice was soft, and Lyn opened her eyes to meet the blue gaze of her friend. Florina smiled a little and pointed a few feet away to a cot that she couldn't see. "He's here, though."

She felt a ghost of a smile drift across her face, and she looked down, noticing that her arm had been splinted and set and bandaged and was in a tight sling around her neck, preventing most movement. "How long have you been here?" she found herself asking, eyes drifting back to the pegasus knight.

"Since Lord Eliwood set you down," she admitted, taking Lyn's good hand in her own. "A few hours. I wanted to make sure you were okay. Are you feeling better?"

Taking her good arm, she squeezed Florina's hand and reached up with her own, setting it behind her friend's neck before bringing her down into a one-armed hug. "Thank you," she whispered.

Lyn felt the pegasus knight's arms wrap around her lightly, and the other woman pressed a gentle kiss against her cheek before pulling away again. "Are you hungry or thirsty or…?"

She shook her head, trying to turn over but failing. "I want to see him," she murmured.

A timid smile broke out over Florina's face, and the younger woman helped Lyn get up. "You're not supposed to be up," she admitted, taking the cot Lyn had been lying on and moving it. "But you can't turn over, either… Not without hurting yourself. So…"

Lyndis followed her movements, noticing that Florina set her cot next to another so that the two were touching. A blanket was pulled over the person occupying the second cot, making them unrecognizable, but Lyn knew who it was, and was there instantly.

"No, no," Florina was saying, pulling her Sacaen friend over to her own cot. "Get in bed first. S-Serra would be, uhm… very unhappy with me if she knew I let you get out of bed."

After Lyn had settled back in, she reached over and gently touched his face, hoping for a reaction from him but getting none.

"He was asking for you, you know."

"He was?" Surprise flitted across her face, and she brushed his bangs out of his eyes.

"Yeah." Florina shuffled her feet, her face serious. "He woke up a couple of times and kept asking to see you, kept saying your name. But…I don't think he was completely aware of where he was." When her friend did not reply, she excused herself, pausing at the opening of the tent for a moment, chewing on her lower lip. "He'll be fine," she said, before she closed the flap of the tent behind her.

Lyndis sighed and continued to run her fingertips across his skin. "I'm sorry," she whispered to his still form, trying to block out the sound of his slightly ragged breathing. "I should not have left you."

She watched him until she felt her eyes close, and blindly reached under his blanket for his hand that was thankfully still warm. She threaded her fingers through his slowly and squeezed, her grip loose. "I'm here now," she murmured before sleep overtook her. "And I won't leave you."

* * *

**_…xOx…_**

Opening his eyes took a lot of concentration, and once he had managed to blink away the sleep from them, he wished he had not awoken at all. His midsection burned painfully, and he laid perfectly still, pushing back a groan. He tried to lift his hand, but found that it felt heavier than usual, and he looked down, eyes opening fully as he noticed another hand wrapped around his own.

_I lived_, he thought. _But…how?_

He followed the arm attached to the hand and relief flooded him when he saw his Lady Lyndis there, sleeping next to him. Guilt gnawed at him when he saw her injured arm, curled up against her chest, the white bandages proof that she would be unable to use it for some time.

He untangled his hand from hers and reached out to lightly touch her. She flinched at the contact, curling into herself a little bit. Vaguely, he wondered what hurt worse, his wound or the fact that she had shied away from the feeling of his hand on her arm. He started to pull his hand away, but stopped when he noticed her eyelashes fluttering slightly as she tried to force herself awake. His fingers brushed against her hair, pushing it out of the way as she opened her eyes, and he felt nothing but relief to see her awake.

"L…ady Lyndis?" he whispered, his voice raspy and hoarse and, _Oh St. Elimine _it hurt to talk.

She shifted under his fingers and blinked slowly until her vision cleared, sighing at the feel of his hand on her face as she murmured his name, "Kent?"

"Yes." It took him a moment to catch his breath after speaking. "Please forgiv—"

"No, no…" Her voice was gentle, soft, and it soothed him, made him want to close his eyes and drift off again. "You did nothing wrong," she reassured him, still looking sleepy as she lifted her hand to rest on his as it splayed across her cheek and throat. "I should not have left you."

"You returned," he reasoned, coughing a little after speaking, the motion making his other hand go to his stomach as if to suppress the pain.

She rubbed her thumb across the back of his. "Shh," she mumbled. "Don't speak, just…get well."

"But you came back for me." He tried to raise his head off of his pillow to look at her better. "You needn't have done that… I was prepared to die in y-your—" Another cough shook his body, and she squeezed his hand until it had passed over, leaving him breathless and exhausted.

"You need to rest…" Her own eyes were slowly closing, and he felt his own do the same, partially due to her soft touch on his hand.

"B…but why?" He mumbled his words, moving his thumb slightly beneath her own, against the soft skin of her cheek. Why would she have returned to him when she knew he would likely be dead? When he had sent her away himself, for her sake?

She peered at him through half-lidded eyes, and he realized that if he did not feel so utterly terrible, he might have been inclined to kiss her. "Just because you had accepted your fate," she said to him, her accent sounding especially thick in her sleepy state, "does not mean that I had, as well…" Her eyes closed completely, and his followed soon after, content that she was safe. A moment passed before he felt her move closer to him, and he found her warmth to be comforting, more so when her hand slipped from his and rested lightly on his arm. "I didn't want to live the rest of my life without you," she murmured, her voice so soft that he had to strain to hear it. "So," she continued, feeling her mouth turn upward in a small, amused smile near his hand, "I hope that you will…forgive me if…I should continue to stay by…your side…"

* * *

_**...xOx...**_

**Author Notes:**

Originally this was supposed to end after the first scene break, at his supposed death. But _some people_ (and if you're reading this, you know who you are) like to try and make me feel guilty for character death, and I felt terrible for killing off poor Kent (or supposedly killing him off). So I continued on. I'm not sure I'm satisfied with it, but I can't think of anything else to improve it, and I don't want to make it any longer than it already is. So, those of you who have read it, do you think I should have left it at his "death", or was it better that I continued on?

Thanks for reading!

_Up Next:_ "Falsities"  
Theme #82: Thanks


	10. Falsities: Kent, Lyndis

**Falsities  
By: Manna**

* * *

_**…xOx…**_

The Fire Emblem 100 Challenge!  
**Theme #82: Thanks  
Starring: **_**Kent, Lyndis**_  
**Genre: **_**Speculation, Angst, Romance**_  
**Warnings: **_**Rated T**_

* * *

_…**xOx…**_

It was getting harder for him to lie to her.

Kent did not like to think of himself as a liar, as someone who told falsehoods or deceived another. Sometimes he wondered how he could look her in the face and tell a blatant lie; she did not deserve to hear his falsities, to see his lying eyes, or to rely on him when he could not be truthful.

Slowly, he knew, this deceit was breaking him.

But, wasn't it better to lie when he was more ashamed of the truth?

Her smile made his legs weak, made his traitorous heart thud against his ribcage, and it took all of his self-control to turn away without telling her everything. If she knew how he had lied, oh, if she knew his thoughts and feelings—how inappropriate and filthy they could be— surely she would be ashamed of him, too! He told himself this, and it made it easier to tell half-truths to the smiling green eyes that he never wanted to look away from; he could ignore his fluttering heart then, because the mere thought of her being disappointed in him, of her feeling shame towards him, of her eyebrows lowering in anger, in annoyance at his presence… it crushed him.

He did not think that he could bear to see disgust or reproach on her face, not directed at him.

But the more time he spent with her, the more he wanted to tell her everything. However, that fear of complete rejection—as suffocating and terrible as it was—remained, and no matter how he struggled against it, it prevailed. And he would lie to her again.

It was a vicious cycle, but it was one he felt that he could not break.

"Kent?"

Her voice broke him out of his thoughts, and he turned to see her standing next to him, a look of concern on her face that he knew he did not deserve, not when he thought of her the way he did.

"Yes, milady?"

"Are you feeling well?"

He felt his chest tighten at her words. _Please_, he wanted to say to her, _don't waste your sympathy on me. I am undeserving of your worry._

Instead, he only nodded his head and pushed thoughts out of his mind that did not belong there—about how sweet she looked, that he wanted to brush a stray piece of hair out of her eyes, or even the last trailing thought that followed, of how her skin might feel against his fingertips. _Lady Lyndis, you deserve far better than I._

"That's good." She smiled at him, the smile he loved seeing, the one that she rarely gave anyone; it lit up her eyes and made her look like… Well, he was not graced with an eloquent tongue like Sain was, but he did know that she looked heart-stoppingly stunning when she let herself smile that way. "It took me awhile to find you, but I'm glad I did."

It took everything in him to force himself to look away from her, away from those beautiful green eyes and the curve of her lips. He wanted to say something, anything, but the words weren't coming to him. They were already outweighed by the ever-present fear of her unhappiness, of her disgust. He knew what she would say already, and before he saw it, he did not know what to make of the spark of hope in her eyes.

"Thank you for being there earlier today, Kent. I don't know what I would have done without your help."

"It was no trouble."

His reply was automatic, monotone, as if he'd rehearsed it and said it a thousand times, and maybe he had. It was like watching himself over and over again, saying the same lines, getting the same reaction. He knew it would happen before it did; her eyes lost their brilliance, and the hope started to fade at his words, as if she'd heard them a thousand times before. As if she'd been expecting something else, anything else.

He wanted to say… he wanted…

He did not like to see her hurting. All he knew was that he was the source of the hurt, of her sorrow. Grasping at his deepest thoughts, he still could not fathom why that might be so, but he turned his eyes to her again and allowed himself the brief pleasure of just looking at her.

"It was my…" He wrestled with his insecurities, finally, for the first time, coming out victorious. "Honor."

* * *

_**…xOx…**_

**Author Notes:**

I was very close to ending this in a 'loop' for Kent by having him lie to her at the end again, but I couldn't bring myself to do that. So here's kind of another…side to Kent. Kent and Lyndis's supports are arguably interesting, but he either doesn't notice at first that him telling her that she is his duty bothers her, or he chooses to say she is his duty anyway, for some reason or another. So I thought, maybe he doesn't feel that he has any right to say anything more than that?

Thanks for reading!

_Up Next:__ "Cyclical Dreams"_  
Theme #38: Sleep


	11. Cyclical Dreams: Kent, Lyndis

**Cyclical Dreams  
By: Manna**

* * *

_**…xOx…**_

The Fire Emblem 100 Challenge!  
**Theme #38: Sleep  
Starring: **_**Kent, Lyndis**_  
**Genre: **_**Angst, Romance, Drama**_  
**Warnings: **_**Rated K+**_

* * *

_**…xOx…**_

"…Lady Lyndis…?"

He was shaking. It was the first thing he noticed when he awoke in the middle of a calm early-summer night. His fingers, his hands, his knees…even his stomach trembled. _Why?_ he wondered, squeezing his eyes shut and wrapping his arms around himself, almost as if he was trying to shield himself from something—his own shame, perhaps, or regret.

And then, suddenly, he remembered. The blood, the scream, her hand clutching his shirt, fingers loosening, dead eyes watching him, accusing him.

_You let this happen; it's your fault I'm dead, Kent. Your fault._

His name on her lips was a sound he'd always enjoyed hearing, but not like that, never like that… Not weary and full of resignation—not angry and sad and regretful.

Sweat trickled down the back of his neck, and he shuddered uncontrollably as he recalled the awkward tilt of her head and her parted lips as blood made a trail out of the corner of her mouth, slipping down the side of her throat even after she'd stopped breathing.

His own breath hitched in his throat at the…thought? Memory?

Was it only a dream? Was it real?

Had it been a dream of what had already happened, or a vision of what might come to pass in the future? He vaguely realized that he was mumbling under his breath, his words unintelligible even to his own ears. He stopped as hands shook him, gently at first, but then forcefully; slowly, he uncurled himself and listened to the voice that was seeping into his consciousness.

"…Kent? Kent! What is the matter with you?"

The voice was masculine and worried, and he found that he didn't want to wake up, couldn't bear to face another day, not again, not now… _The dream,_ he wanted to say, to wave the image of her too-still body in front of the face of this man who was attempting to make him open his eyes and remember everything.

_Please do not make me remember the dream._

…_Dream?_

"Kent, it was only a dream!" The voice came closer, and the hands tried to pull him to his feet. "C'mon, stop doing that… you're scaring me, honestly!"

_Only a dream?_

He allowed himself to be hauled to his feet, and he opened his eyes to see Wil standing there, looking every bit as frightened as he said he was.

"Oh, thank St. Elimine," he said, a smile wavering slightly at the corners of his mouth in relief. "Are you feeling okay?"

Kent swallowed thickly, his tongue feeling heavy and dry. "Lady Lyndis?" he croaked, almost not daring to hear anything good at all. "…Where is she?"

"She's on watch," Wil told him, tilting his head to stare confusedly at him. "Are you okay? I'm serious, Sir Kent… you don't look so good."

"I'm fine, fine… perfectly fine…" He was rambling, mumbling… He knew his words weren't quite understood by his concerned friend. "I'll find her… I need to…talk to her."

She was leaning against a tree, seemingly staring out at the starlit sky, and he approached her slowly, his heartbeat slowing down now that he could see her, now that he _knew_ it was only a dream. _Oh, thank Elimine, it was a…just a…a dream, that's all…_

"Lady Lyndis?" His voice was hesitant. He really oughtn't bother her, but… he had to. Had to see her face and hear her voice. The muscles in his stomach clenched slightly in anticipation of her response, but slowly, his heart started to sink when she did not respond. He tried again. "Lady Lyndis?"

When she failed to answer him again, he almost left her, thinking that she might be angry with him for some reason or another, though he knew it was not likely. But, almost against his own will, he reached out for her. Perhaps she had fallen asleep, he tried to rationalize to himself, and perhaps…he was feeling vulnerable enough that he would put her to bed and take her spot.

His fingers brushed against her elbow, and he jerked at the feeling of her cool skin against his sweaty hand. He tried to speak, to say anything—her name, words of encouragement, even an _Oh, St. Elimine, no_—but his mouth refused to work, and he gripped her elbow at the joint tightly. _She will be upset with me,_ he thought for that split second, but any reaction was better than none at all, and he squeezed tighter, waiting, hoping, desperately seeking the sound of her voice.

She did not utter a sound, but the firmer his grip became, the more she started to slide towards him, until suddenly, she fell against him.

He caught her, and in that instant, his heart stopped beating for a long moment before he heard screaming in the back of his mind. He did not realize that it was his own.

* * *

**_…xOx…_**

The screaming awoke him. His eyes flew open and he jerked to an upright position, his breath coming out in pained gasps as he struggled for air. Sympathetic eyes peered at him from not too far away, and a voice spoke softly to him.

"Kent."

_Who is this? _he wondered, pressing his hand against his rapidly beating heart. It hurt, he realized, and almost doubled over when he felt his stomach churn sickeningly.

"Dreams can be strange things." The owner of the voice smiled slightly, an almost melancholy look on their face. "I can't say that I know what kind of dream you just had, but…it must have been terrible."

Kent nodded. _Dream…? Was that a dream? But the one before it…was it a dream, too?_

"Do you need anything? Water…maybe?"

He shook his head, ignoring his dry mouth and aching chest. "Lady …Lyndis," he murmured finally, his voice wavering slightly. "I need her… Where…where is she?"

"Ah." The face smiled, tilting to the side just a little, and he suddenly recognized the speaker. "I see. She's fine, if that's what you were worried about."

His heartbeat started to slow, and he placed his hand over his stomach; it continued to twist sickeningly. "Heath," he said, making his way to his feet. "Please, where is she?"

Mild surprise flickered across Heath's face, but he quickly composed himself and ran a hair absently through his hair, shifting the weight of his lance to his other hand. "She's sleeping," he answered after a time, the slight smile back on his face. "She insisted on taking watch, but I remembered what you said about her not sleeping well lately, and sent her away when she started to look tired."

"Thank you," he muttered, slowly making his way over to where he knew she would be sleeping. He sighed with relief when he saw her, feeling the tension in his chest easing at the sight of the back of her head resting on her arm as she slept, peacefully no doubt.

"Oh, Lady Lyndis," he said to her, his voice so quiet that he doubted she would hear it even if she were awake. "It is just as Heath said… you're fine…asleep… Thank St. Elimine for that…"

_They were both dreams…only dreams. This is…this is…reality? Lady Lyndis is fine, now…_

He tucked a few strands of hair that had loosened from her ponytail behind her ear, and rested his hand on her shoulder, squeezing lightly, his heart fluttering lightly at the sight of her lying there, so peaceful and…and… _And still,_ he thought, but it was too late.

The weight of his hand on her shoulder caused her head to fall from her arm, and as it lolled towards him, he bit back a gag, but couldn't pull away from her even as the blanket covering her slid away.

She stared at him, unseeing, one of her hands on her chest, curled slightly around the shaft of an arrow that pierced through flesh and muscle, her other hand falling to land limply in his lap. Blood pooled around her injury, soaking through her dress. It coated her tongue and dribbled from the corner of her mouth, small splatters of it trailing across her pale lips as if she'd struggled to continue breathing in those last few seconds of life she'd been granted.

He fell on his backside with a strangled cry, his heartbeat pounding in his ears, his breathing nothing but fruitless gasps for air. He suddenly felt very dizzy, and he let the darkness consume him, welcoming it with open arms, her name the last thought on his mind before he went under.

* * *

**_…xOx…_**

He tossed back and forth, hands clutching frantically at anything he could, seeking comfort but finding none in anything he found. He was mumbling under his breath, his words so soft that they woke no one up, though the sharp pain in his chest and the tears in his eyes managed to bring him to a semi-conscious state.

_No, not again… No…please…_

His blanket was being pulled from him, and his fingers tightened their grip on it fearfully. _No, don't take it away. It is all I have left._ Someone pried at his fingers and forced him to let it go. It made him feel sick, and he shivered, his entire body quaking as the cool early-summer air came into contact with his face and neck. He curled into himself, wanting nothing more than to hide, to hide away from everything, everyone…

_I cannot…do this anymore… I can't…_

His heartbeat was thudding heavily in his ears, reminding him of the sound of his horse's hooves against the solidly-packed dirt track in Caelin where they trained their horses for riding and occasionally had short races. His throat was dry, parched, raw from his rasping, tearful breaths.

"I'm sorry," he kept saying, over and over again until the sound almost started to relax him. "I'm sorry, I didn't know, I couldn't do anything…I did not do anything…I let…I let it happen… I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so very sorry…"

"Kent! What the hell is wrong with you?"

He stopped speaking, curling into himself further, squeezing his eyes shut even though the motion caused his tears to spill over slightly. He wanted to tell this voice to leave him be; he was a failure, a continual failure, and he did not deserve to continue in the company of these good, righteous people that he would no doubt taint with his wretchedness.

"Kent…?" The voice sounded uncertain, now, and Kent wished with every fiber of his being that it would go away.

The image of her, of the blood splattered across her lips, of her hand lying curled around the shaft of the arrow, of the awkward tilt of her head and the feeling of her cool skin against his fingertips… It made him sick, _so sick_, and he couldn't fight it. Couldn't save her. Couldn't prevent what had already happened countless times and what would cyclically happen again and again.

"She's dead." His own voice sounded hollow and lost to him.

He felt a sharp stinging in his cheeks, and he opened his eyes, meeting a pair of hazel ones that he knew belonged to Sain. "Sorry, partner," the other man apologized, pulling his hand away from Kent's face. "You needed that."

"I-I…she…she's dead, Sain. Dead. And I-I couldn't… I didn't do _anything_, I…"

Another slap, this time harder. Sain shook his head and sighed. "Look, Kent… I don't know what you're talking about, but nobody's dead. Mark's been doing a great job of not getting any of us killed."

"I let her die." His voice was soft, resigned, acceptant of the conclusion that he had drawn; he had let her, the lady Lyndis, die. It was his fault. Hadn't he promised to stay by her side always? Hadn't he sworn his fealty and his life to her?

Sain's hands shook him firmly. "Kent, don't you get it? Nobody is dead. You must have had a dream…or something."

He bit his lip and chewed on it for a moment as he digested his friend's words. _Nobody…is dead?_

"Who is dead, Kent?"

Suddenly, he was uncertain. "Lady Lyndis?"

"She's fine, Kent. I saw her only moments ago, telling little Nino a story." At the doubtful look on his auburn-haired comrade's face, he frowned. "Look, Kent… I can take you to her to prove it if you don't believe me."

"No!" He sat up and frantically moved away from Sain. "No, don't!"

"Don't _what_?" Running his hand through his sandy hair, Sain sighed. "I don't understand, Kent. You keep insisting that Lady Lyndis is dead, and I am telling you that she is not! Let us go and find our most esteemed, beauteous liege and you'll know for certain that I am telling the truth to you!"

"No, no!" He shook his head forcefully, his sweaty auburn hair moving with the motion. "You do not understand, Sain! I cannot go to her! Every time I find her she is _dead_." He drew in a slow, shaky breath, exhaling before continuing, "Dead, Sain…dead… Blood and…cold…and still, very…still…"

When he blinked, Sain was gone, only the sounds of his footsteps to let him know that his friend had gone. A few slow minutes passed, and he let his head rest on his arms that were folded over his knees. His blanket was lying beside him, but he paid it no mind and simply closed his eyes, trying to will away all his ragged breathing and the image of her bright blood trailing down the smooth, pale skin of her throat.

His muscles jerked when he felt arms wrap around him from behind, holding him tightly. "I'm fine, Kent… See?" As if to prove a point, the arms squeezed him harder, pressing the speaker's chest into his back, though he hardly noticed.

He let silence come between them, unwilling to answer for a long time. Was it fear that prevented him from speaking? "…I am sorry, milady," he finally said to her, leaving his eyes closed, not moving from where he sat, hunched over and unable to see her.

"For what?"

Her words were soft, gentle…and her breath tickled his ear. He shuddered a little, answering her, "For…" He realized that he could not form a response… What was he sorry for? Why did he apologize? She was…she was there…he could hear her. But…

Doubt still lingered at the corners of his mind.

_If I turn around, will you disappear?_

The back of one of her hands rubbed lightly against the side of his cheek. It was warm, he realized, relief settling in the bottom of his heart.

"It was only a dream," she said to him, her voice and her touch soothing. She pulled backward, trying to get him to sit up straight, and he obliged her. He never could refuse her anything, not if she truly wanted it.

"A dream?" He realized he was only echoing what she had already said to him, but… they had been dreams those other times, too…hadn't they? Or perhaps they were all reality…

"Yes. You must have fallen asleep a little earlier tonight than usual…" She moved to sit on her knees beside him, pushing herself into his field of vision. She was smiling slightly, but there was worry in her dark eyes.

He felt his heart clench at the sight of that worry, and he lowered his gaze to his hands, shocked when she took both of them in her own and pressed them over her heart. His eyes flew to meet hers at the contact, confused and embarrassed and…and uncertain.

"I'm not dead."

He could feel her gentle heartbeat beneath his fingers, and fought the urge to curl them around the fabric of her dress… It would be most shameful to do such a thing, he told himself. "You…are unhurt?" he murmured instead, glancing downward at his hands.

"I'm fine." She smiled and let go of his hands, leaning against him to hug him again. She pulled his head into the crook of her neck and held him there, lightly stroking his hair.

A few minutes passed before he thought to wrap his arms around her too, and he let them rest on her back as he breathed the smell of her in. She was warm, her presence inviting… He sighed against her. "Forgive me," he whispered, his voice muffled against her neck. "I have been foolish…"

"It's okay. You've done nothing wrong." She kissed the top of his head, either not noticing or not caring about his sweat-soaked hair. "Everything is fine. It was just a dream."

"Just…a dream," he said underneath his breath, letting the words and the feel of her arms around him sink into his mind. "I…" He swallowed, his tongue feeling heavy, and squeezed her tightly, feeling some sense of satisfaction when he heard her breath—yes, her light, gentle, but oh-so real breath—hitch slightly in the back of her throat before she pulled him against her, too.

_Oh, thank…thank St. Elimine… I-it was only a dream, just a dream…that's all._

* * *

**_…xOx…_**

**Author Notes:**

Not much to say, really…though I feel like I should warn you guys. Updates will be a lot slower now. For those of you who don't talk to me on a regular basis, and don't know yet, I'm into another fandom now, too… and rarely do I stay in more than one fandom at the same time. I hope Fire Emblem doesn't lose the "Fandom Battle", so to speak, but it might be put on the backburner for a period of time.

I could see Kent having dreams like this before I can see him having dreams of a romantic nature. Don't get me wrong… I can see him dreaming romantically, too. But just because of the kind of person he is, I could see _this type_ of dream coming along much more often. Thanks for reading! Feedback is, of course, appreciated.

_Up Next:__ "Just a Scratch"_  
Theme #20: Anger


	12. Just a Scratch: Sain, Priscilla

**Just a Scratch**  
**By: Manna**

* * *

…_**xOx…**_

The Fire Emblem 100 Challenge!  
**Theme #20: Anger  
Starring: **_**Sain, Priscilla**_  
**Genre: **_**Drama, Romance**_  
**Warnings: **_**Rated K+**_

* * *

…_**xOx…**_

She gazed down at him in shock. He was truly hurt this time, she realized, because he was not smiling at her or saying anything absolutely ridiculous—but still oh-so flattering. She saw his white-knuckled hands gripping the bedsheets, and just as suddenly as it had come, the shock vanished; anger took its place.

But who was she angry at? Lady Lyndis, for sending him out there? His partner, Kent, for not being able to help? Sain, for allowing himself to be hurt? The man or woman who had caused him this pain to begin with?

Ah, but nobody would suspect her—sweet, innocent Priscilla- a woman whose heart was filled with kindness—of being capable of feeling such a horrible, vile emotion.

But was it so terrible to be angry that someone she'd come to care for was hurt? Every groan of pain, every moment he didn't open his eyes… it hurt her, too.

"Oh, Sain," she murmured, gently brushing his hair out of his eyes.

His eyelids fluttered, slowly revealing hazel eyes framed by long lashes. "Princess…?" he asked, and she smiled at him tightly in response. "What is wrong?"

"How did this happen?"

He looked surprised, and tried to sit up, but she pushed him back down with her other hand, her fingers that had brushed his hair from his eyes still there. "Forgive me, Princess Priscilla, for making you worry."

She felt some of her anger drain away.

"A knight sometimes sustains an injury in the midst of battle, but I did not wish to bother you with such a trivial thing on this glorious day."

She was certain he would have said more, that he wanted to say more—most likely comparing her to the blazing sun or the clouds in the sky—but he groaned slightly and pressed his hand to his side where he'd taken his injury.

"It's…it's just a scratch," he tried to assure her as he made a half-hearted attempt to grin good-naturedly.

She knew better. That was certainly no scratch… Not with the way it bled, with the way his face twisted in pain, with…

Ahh, but he was trying to smile for her…

Her anger fled as quickly as it had come; affection replaced it. "Just…sit still," she insisted, giving him a light, gentle kiss on his cheek. "Let me take care of this _scratch_, as you call it."

* * *

…_**xOx…**_

**Author Notes:**

Just something cute and …I don't know. I couldn't help myself. Feedback is very much appreciated, as always. Thank you for reading!

_Up Next:__ "Protector"_  
Theme #39: Mage


	13. Protector: Jaffar, Nino

**Protector**  
**By: Manna**

* * *

…_**xOx…**_

The Fire Emblem 100 Challenge!  
**Theme #39: Mage  
Starring: **_**Jaffar, Nino**_  
**Genre: **_**Friendship, Romance**_  
**Warnings: **_**Rated K+**_

* * *

…_**xOx…**_

She tried terribly hard, he thought as he watched her practice her spells. She still couldn't read very well, let alone write, but she was doing an exceptional job. From the talk going around the camp, he determined that he wasn't the only one who thought as much. No, everyone from Lowen to Hector to Wil could see skill when they saw it.

He wondered, though, why she tried as hard as she did. Ah, but it was Nino, and she hated to be left behind, hated being a burden on others, and hated being treated like a child who needed looking after. But she was still young and all too inexperienced in the ways of the world, he argued with himself. That was why he watched her.

Right?

Well, perhaps not entirely… No, she was his theoretical opposite, kind and sweet, speaking words of encouragement and trusting others far too easily. He supposed that he needed her compassionate nature to calm his heart and her energetic words to ease his weariness more than she needed him or his protection.

He would offer his quiet, constant presence nonetheless. It was certainly up to her as to whether or not she wanted to accept or decline it.

"Jaffar?"

Her curious voice reached his ears, and he blinked to find her standing just in front of him. _Only her_, he thought. She was the only one in the world that he could relax around enough. She was the only one he would allow to catch him unaware.

She giggled, and the sound of her laughter told him that she was amused at the almost startled look on his face. "What are you doing skulking in the shadows, Jaffar?"

He did not answer. In all honesty, he had no idea what he _should_ say. _I was watching you. When you concentrate hard, your nose scrunches up._

"Did you see me cast that Elfire spell?" she asked him, eyes fairly glowing with excitement. "I think I've almost mastered it! There are a few words I'm stuck on, but… it won't take long to learn them." The light touch of her hand on his arm startled him more than her sudden appearance right in front of him. He should have been expecting it, but he wasn't.

"You know," she continued, completely oblivious to his reaction, "if I can master Elfire, I'll be able to take care of myself!"

She sounded so excited, and he didn't have the heart to tell her that…

"I won't always be in the way, then. And…you can do what you want." Her smile was so bright…

Did she think she didn't need him? What, then, would his purpose in life be? Lives always had goals, he thought. Goals were important—critical, even. If she had no use of him, he would have nothing to work toward.

"What I want?"

"Yeah." Suddenly, her smile disappeared and he wished fervently for its return. "I'm sorry you've had to look out for me this entire time. But I swear! I'll get better so you don't have to do that." Her hand left his arm, and a small smile made its way to her face. "I mean, you probably want to do your own thing, and the only thing keeping you from doing that is me, and—"

This really was unnecessary, he thought. He had to stop her.

"Nino."

"Hm?"

He reached out a hand and swept it in a general circle in front of them. "This is what I want."

Now she was speechless. Well, he definitely kept her from finishing her rather depressing thoughts. But he didn't expect to see the smile on her face to widen, or for her hand to clutch his arm again.

* * *

…_**xOx…**_

**Author Notes:**

Not much to say, here. This is my first time writing both Nino and Jaffar, so input is very much appreciated. Thanks for reading! (And what? What's this? I didn't include Kent _or_ Lyndis _or_ Sain? Blasphemy!)

_Up Next: "A Reason To Smile"  
_Theme #69: Smile


	14. A Reason to Smile: Vaida, Zephiel

**A Reason to Smile   
By: Manna**

* * *

…_**xOx…**_

The Fire Emblem 100 Challenge!  
**Theme #69: Smile  
Starring: Vaida, Zephiel**  
**Genre: Horror, Angst**  
**Warnings: **_**Rated K+**_

* * *

…_**xOx…**_

She hated smiling. She just did.

Smirking was not smiling. Smiling was for those happy-go-lucky moppets who skipped and made merry just because they were alive. She smirked all of the time—most especially at idiots—and she definitely knew the difference between the two. Smiling? What was there to smile about in this godforsaken world of dragons and wyverns and horses? Not a damn lot, that was for certain.

As far as she was concerned, the entire world could just go down in flames. Well, perhaps she wasn't quite so pessimistic about everything, but really, was humankind worth saving at all? She supposed there were a few good people that might yet be alive after all of the years that had passed.

That bumbling, clanking teapot knight, and the rusty-brained Ostian lord… oh, and the pansy who couldn't determine a winner in a fight even if one of the two participants actually died.

They could all be long dead by now, though. She never did bother to pay attention to those puny Lycian territories, so she didn't know either way. It didn't matter if they were dead or not.

The rest of the world was out to stab someone in the back, bite someone else's head off, kill someone else. When it all boiled down to it, everyone lived for themselves, everyone cared about their own life (or lack thereof) more than anyone else's, and everyone put themselves above every other living, breathing creature on the planet.

_We're all going to hell_, she thought. She realized she didn't care.

And she cared even less when she felt the sword come down, bringing an end to the steady, strong beat of her heart. She fell to the ground, muscles ceasing to work as her heart stopped, her eyes fixated on the supposedly one true king of Bern.

She'd had such high hopes for him, once…

Well, the bastard was a man, now, and obviously he had no use for her. He didn't want her opinion on what he was doing, on anything. Just her continued blind loyalty. And she wasn't ever going to give anyone that again!

Her dying eyes stared at him accusingly as she took her last breath, and they seemed to continue watching him even after she breathed her last.

She didn't care. He didn't care. Nobody cared. All anyone had to do was live and die, and she was finally finished with the terrible curse they called life. Perhaps it had not always been so terrible for her, perhaps at one time, she had been happy, though nobody could say they'd ever seen the woman look that way.

Until now.

King Zephiel looked down at the corpse that was staring at him. Nobody would mourn her death—especially not the long-dead wyvern rider that had been under her command many years ago—and he doubted anyone would care even if they knew. He supposed they'd all shrug their shoulders and walk away, but what did it matter, really?

Her hair was raggedy, there were dark circles under her eyes…she looked disgusting. "Get her out of my sight," he ordered, and immediately several men came forward to drag her away. Perhaps she had been pretty once. If he bothered to remember, he might have pictured her bowing to him at a time when she was much younger. But he didn't bother, and he didn't care to even try. The crazy woman had been in a prison cell for too long. Perhaps her brains had rotted.

But as they dragged her body away, he noticed one thing: she was smiling.

"Wait," he said, and the men stopped. He walked over to her and stared at her smile. Was she happy in death? Stupid bitch. Why did it irritate him so much to see her looking happy, now? She never looked happy before. Just pissed off at life and everything in it.

His boot connected with her face, but her smile only seemed to grow wider, so he kicked her again. Her teeth were showing, so he let his heavy boot remove those for her while he was at it.

But she still looked happy, as happy as Vaida had ever looked to him. And it made him sick. But no matter how hard he kicked, the smile remained there in death, and after a time, he smiled as well. "I am happy that you are dead, too," he told her corpse, and the men holding her arms to take her away exchanged glances of horror mixed with fear.

But no…it wasn't a smile. It was a smirk, and Vaida would definitely know the difference.

* * *

…_**xOx…**_

**Author Notes:**

Just something…different. Well, not really. But yeah. I love Vaida. I always wondered how she felt when Zephiel became king. Did she stick by him blindly even when he became someone terrible? I wonder. I also wonder if Wallace ever gave her his little speech on blind loyalty…

Just a speculative piece, to be honest. Thoughts/comments/constructive criticism are all appreciated. Thank you for reading!

_Up Next:__ "This is My Life"_  
Theme #42: Risking One's Life/Even If It Takes My Life


	15. This is My Life: Sain, Fiora

**This is My Life  
By: Manna**

* * *

…_**xOx…**_

The Fire Emblem 100 Challenge!  
**Theme #42: Even if it takes my life/risking one's life  
Starring: Sain, Fiora**  
**Genre: Romance, Angst**  
**Warnings: **_**Rated K, Character Death (Or is Sain only being dramatic?)**_

* * *

…_**xOx…**_

Flowery words and beautiful poetry.

It's not that I love speaking it so much as it is that I say what I feel must be said.

My words flatter the maids at Caelin Castle, the young women in the inns we pass along the way, and sometimes a lovely elegant lady who just so happens to cross my path.

But mere flattery does not seem to have a positive effect on women of strength—who have seen and fought and survived. I wonder, sometimes, if that isn't why most men believe that women should stay at home. War hardens and breaks the hearts of men. What, then, will it do to the gentle soul of a woman?

But I do not want a tender, budding blossom, as strange as it sounds considering how often I talk about it. No, no… The woman who has unknowingly captured this soldier's heart is an icy flower who locks herself away in her thoughts, worrying and regretting and wanting nothing more than to rectify a past riddled with mistakes and bad choices.

No matter how many times I tell her, no matter how often I show her, it is as if she cannot see me, let alone my true, honest-to-God intentions.

Do I truly love her? I can say, without a single moment of hesitation, that I do. She might not be the most beautiful woman in the world, but she is the most beautiful woman to me. She is, after all—no matter what she might think—the only woman that I see. My eyes, my heart, my soul… They all point to her.

I've made a vow, an eternal promise born of my love and devotion to her alone. My silly words, dripping with honey and endearments, do not affect her at all. It's as if she does not hear them.

But it is no matter. I can, and I shall, win her over with more than simple words. My vow will bring the light and love to her eyes that my lips cannot. She is a woman unlike any other; it is impossible for one to gain her affections using flattery, no matter how sincere it may be. There is only one way to be victorious in winning her love.

I know that now. If that is what it takes to make her love me, so be it.

I am a knight of Caelin, but my heart sings for more than the stone castle walls. I seek my fair maiden, complete with a tragic past, worry-filled eyes, shaking hands, and lips of ice. That is why she is mine—no other can love her the way I do, the way I want to. Why can't she understand how I feel? Why can I not express it as I wish to do?

My dear, I will do anything for you! Why must I die to now see the affection in your eyes that I have longed for since the day I was born? You cry as if you are losing someone precious to you, and your tears are as warm as your hands—they are not drops of ice as some might have expected.

Don't you see, Fiora? I love you. Your eyes are full of mercy, and I feel as if I could drown within them because they are locked on mine.

This is my life, and I now have the only thing I've ever wanted, could ever want from a woman like you—beautiful yet so distant. I love you, Fiora, I do. Won't you believe me, just this once? Your tears and sorrowful eyes are my long-awaited silent answer.

As darkness overtakes me, you have become my whole world, and I, yours.

* * *

…_**xOx…**_

**Author Notes:**

Character death is fun. Unless, of course, Sain's only being dramatic.

Just a newer style I was trying out. Sain's fun to write. He's a romantic, and perhaps the only way he believes to win Fiora's heart is to die for her. (She does seem impressed that he tries to protect her even when he's rather ill.) His vow, by the way, was his vow to protect her. She was impressed that he stuck with it in their supports, and his wish was for her to see him, as indicated sort-of in the last line.

Thanks for reading! Feedback is, as always, very much appreciated!

_Up Next: __"Soaring"_  
Theme #13: Flutter, Flutter, Flutter


	16. Soaring: Lowen, Rebecca

**Soaring  
By: Manna**

* * *

…_**xOx…**_

The Fire Emblem 100 Challenge!  
**Theme #13: Flutter, flutter, flutter  
Starring: Lowen, Rebecca**  
**Genre: Romance**  
**Warnings: **_**Rated K+**_

* * *

…_**xOx…**_

The sun was shining, the flowers were in bloom, and the sky was a perfect blue. But the one thing that made this particular day the most beautiful was…

Oh, snap! He hung his head in shame and stirred the potato soup that he was certain would be gone before he even got the chance to taste it. That silly line sounded like something Sain would say… and everyone knew his reputation…

He snuck a peak over the top of the large black pot and saw _her_ smiling and laughing with Nino and Florina. Gosh, she was just… There was something about her that he really, really liked. He wasn't sure what it was, though.

Her hair? Her eyes? Her nose and lips? Did it really even matter why?

He stared at the soup and continued stirring. He'd never live it down if he burned it because he was staring blatantly at Rebecca! But she was so…so sweet, and energetic, and fun to talk to! And at the same time, she was gentle and caring… What wasn't there to like about her?

"Hello, Sir Lowen."

Her voice startled him out of his thoughts and he nearly jumped. "R-Rebecca!" he managed to say. "Do you need, uhm, something?"

"No." She smiled brightly at him. "But you know, I'm a pretty good cook myself. Do you need some help?"

He thought his heart was going to explode. Or something. It certainly wasn't calming down! Just the thought of her working next to him, helping him cut vegetables… "A-ah, that would be fine."

He wanted to tell himself to shut up, because really…he always tended to make a fool of himself when he spoke to her! At least he hadn't put himself down—she really hated it when he did that, however unintentional, and he had learned the hard way not to do it—but he still couldn't form an intelligent response.

"Okay." She grabbed an apron and tied it around her waist quickly before taking a knife to a carrot with the utmost precision.

Ah, what a woman! She was pretty and smart and good in the kitchen, and sweet, and… If only he could court her! But during a war was not the best time to do it. Perhaps afterward, he could ask… But would she accept?

"Sir Lowen? Have you ever thought of opening a restaurant? I think you'd be good at it."

Well, maybe she would. He smiled at her and squished his nervousness even though he had no way of keeping his heart grounded. "I have thought about it," he said. "But I doubt I could manage it alone…"

* * *

…_**xOx…**_

**Author Notes:**

Just something cute and fun for once. And short. Really short. Without mention of Kent or Lyndis..._again._ (AHH! It's the end of the world!) Thanks for reading! Feedback is always appreciated.

_Up Next: __"Light of the World"_  
Theme #88: Hurry! Hurry!


	17. Light of the World: Lucius

**Light of the World  
By: Manna**

* * *

…_**xOx…**_

The Fire Emblem 100 Challenge!  
**Theme #88: Hurry! Hurry!  
Starring: Lucius**  
**Genre: Angst, Tragedy**  
**Warnings: **_**Rated K+**_

* * *

…_**xOx…**_

There was no light in the world. That was what Raven always told him. The world was dark and bleak and lacked all of the good things priests and reverends preached about to congregations filled with wide-eyed innocents who soaked up hope like a sponge did water. They didn't know any better, the mercenary would say.

There was no heaven, only hell.

And they were living in it.

Hell on earth, he'd say, a smirk on his face so smug it almost hurt his friend's feelings.

Lucius could not understand what Raven meant by those words. The world was filled with light! He tried to convince his hardheaded companion of this truth, but always ended up failing in the end.

There is no light, Lucius. No light at all. Only the dim glow of the fire as it burns away your clothes and eats at your heart until it's as dry and hot and empty as hell itself.

_And thirsty_, Lucius thought as he looked around him at the blood and the bodies and the flames. Perhaps he _was_ in hell. Indeed, it seemed to look like it.

The men had long fled, leaving nearly everyone dead or dying. But the children, _my God, the children!_

_Saint Elimine, where is your mercy and grace, now?_

They all weren't out of the building yet. They weren't all dead.

He felt his way down the smoke-filled hallway and felt chunks of mortar and tinder brush against his robes. He had one goal in mind—the children, _the children_—and he did not care about himself. He was getting older, weaker. The children were young, were sweet and innocent and full of energy and _God_ how he loved watching them play together under the walnut trees in the summertime.

They were all he had left in life, weren't they?

The smoke filled his lungs and made him cough, but he pressed onward. The children needed him, he was all they had too, wasn't he?

He remembered a kind man who had brought him away from a similar place and a woman who had taken care of him while he still lived in one. Yes, he was all they had now that they didn't have their parents. He could remember what it had been like, what being alone felt like.

Lugh and Ray were safe, he was thankful for that much. He'd promised sweet Nino that he'd look after them. He regretted that he could not do so any longer.

But what of the rest of the children? He could hear their screaming. The flames were licking at the doorframes, crawling down the corridors of the orphanage like snakes slithering through the grass, catching all the curtains and the sparse furniture ablaze.

He was running, running and he couldn't breathe. His robes tripped him—or was it his own clumsiness? He coughed into the folds of his sleeves and squinted. It was then that he saw the crying child curled into a ball, shuddering in the corner.

He gently laid a hand on the boy's shoulder, wanting to speak, to murmur words of reassurance…but he could say nothing. His voice was failing him, and oh, what a terrible time it was for such a thing to happen!

_Everything will be fine. We'll get out of here._

The boy looked up, his own worries forgotten as he laid eyes on the man in front of him. He knew him well. Brother Lucius was a kind soul, a friend to every child in the orphanage; he'd won them over, heart and soul, by just being himself. His patience was so great that nobody in Elibe could match it. He flung his arms around the monk's neck and held on tight.

_Let's get out of here._

But there was no escape. The building was going up in flames, and the fire was eating at his robes, licking at the fabric and swallowing it in the same manner as the devil swallowed lost souls. How he wanted to stand up and rush out of the burning building like some sort of hero, depositing the child on the grass outside before running in and saving another.

He'd never hated being weak as much as he hated it at that moment.

_Pray_, he thought. _Just pray._

And he did. He folded his hands and raised his face to the heavens and prayed and prayed and prayed as he rocked the boy back and forth in his arms, tears working their way down his face as the fire raged around them. _Save the children, God. Saint Elimine, please save the children. They've done nothing wrong. They know not of sin, but of love. Spare them, spare the children…_

He pushed the boy away. _Run,_ he wanted to tell him, but the child wouldn't run, wouldn't move. He took a few faltering steps and ran back to him, tugging at his hand. But Lucius had to shake his head. It was too late for him. _It's my time,_ he mouthed. _God is taking me home. I'll soon see Saint Elimine and all the angels and maybe even little Nino and Lord Raymond._

"I won't leave you, Brother Lucius!"

Small arms wrapped around his neck tighter than before as tears soaked through his burning robes. The fire was searing hot, but the tears on his face were not from the pain. _Oh, my God! They only know of love, of love and never of hate or wrongdoing. God, spare their lives, please…for the world is not full of darkness._

* * *

…_**xOx…**_

**Author Notes:**

This one was a blast to write. I don't know why I wrote it, or where the idea came from. I was working, and it just came to me. Everything. So I guess you have Honda to thank for this chapter, ahahaha. But to be honest, I think this is one of my favorite chapters from this collection thus far. It gave me goosebumps.

Bonus points if you can guess where I got the title!

Feedback is always appreciated!

_Up Next:__ "A Fabulous Tale"_  
Theme #17: Big Brother and Little Sister


	18. A Fabulous Tale: Dart, Rebecca

**A Fabulous Tale****  
By: Manna

* * *

  
**

…_**xOx…**_

The Fire Emblem 100 Challenge!  
**Theme #17: Big Brother and Little Sister  
Starring: Dart, Rebecca**  
**Genre: Family, Friendship**  
**Warnings: **_**Rated K+

* * *

  
**_

…_**xOx…**_

He couldn't remember the games and the laughs and the smiles. No matter how hard he tried, her stories were only just that… Stories. But, oh, they were good yarns she spun about a boy who talked proper and his sister and his best friend.

But he didn't know this boy, Dan. He had never heard of him before!

This boy who wasn't quite a man climbed trees and hatched up plans with his buddy to tease his sister, he scaled castle walls and he slew dragons and he was a hero, if only in his own imagination.

She never finished her story; there was never an ending. Sometimes by the campfire at night, he wondered what had become of the land lover; this boy that had an imagination and waded in creeks was a mystery to him… He almost felt like he should know him.

This "Dan" loved animals, liked to fish, and he had a captivating smile if one bothered to look. He always laughed when she said that. Her eyes would have a faraway look in them for just a split second before they brightened again.

"No matter how great this mate's smile is said to be," he told her once, "it ain't got half a chance in hell at bein' anywhere near as lovely as y'er own."

She was a sweet thing, really she was. Despite his flirtatious nature, that talkative knight Sain was right about one thing besides which beer tasted best. She was like a wildflower among the weeds.

Amid the grim faces and the tortured souls, her smile shone the brightest; he admired her for that. He was in it for the adventure… She was in it to help others, to become a better person, herself. She was a good girlie; she would make someone a good wife and she would make a wonderful mother when she settled down.

The stories about this stranger named Dan continued, and she never seemed to run out of little things to say about him. There was always a little tale, a smile, a hand on the seat next to her inviting him to sit. And with a chuckle and a scratch of his head, he would. He couldn't help it.

One day he saw her tightening her bowstring, and he stopped next to her, crouching down to look her in the eyes; the warm green soaked into his soul, into his very being, and he felt a strange sense of déjà vu sweep over him. "Whate're happened to this Dan character you're always tellin' me 'bout?"

She smiled. "He left and broke his family's hearts."

Silence fell between them as he let the words sink in. It was no wonder she never finished her tale of Dan, he thought.

She looked down at her bow and tested the tautness of the string with her right hand. "Say, Dart? If you had a sister, would you love her?"

"Aye, Rebecca," he answered, standing again and giving her neatly plaited braids a gentle tug. "I would. Very much."

* * *

…_**xOx…**_

**Author Notes:**

I don't know why I had to write this, but it was being begged to be written. What if Dart just couldn't remember? While these two aren't my favorites, I find them to be interesting enough characters. Feedback is much appreciated! Thank you for reading!

_Up Next: "Once Upon a Time"  
_Theme #7: Knight and Princess


	19. Once Upon a Time: Kent, Lyndis

**Once Upon a Time  
By: Manna

* * *

  
**

…_**xOx…**_

The Fire Emblem 100 Challenge!  
**Theme #7: Knight and Princess  
Starring: Kent, Lyndis**  
**Genre: Friendship**  
**Warnings: **_**Rated K+

* * *

  
**_

…_**xOx…**_

The streets of Bulgar were busy, crazy with the sounds of life. People walked quickly from here to there, vendors shouted the sounds of their wares, and 8-year-old Kent was scared.

He stood next to his father. His hands were fisted at his sides, his lips pressed into a thin line, his eyes watching the older man's face. He didn't like to hear his father shouting, but apparently in order to get a bargain from a vendor, one had to shout, and loudly at that.

He struggled not to fidget, and after what felt like an eternity, the man and his father struck a deal, and with a satisfied smirk, they moved on to another stall. His father wasn't an affectionate man in public, and he had to walk fast to keep up with the long strides that he took. If he were with his mother, he would certainly be holding to her hand with his little fingers, but he was to have a life better than the one his father had, or so he had been told, and a part of that was to be strong.

He wasn't quite sure what strength was, yet, but he would certainly learn, and as the crowd swallowed the figure of the man who had raised him, he felt anything but. He came to a halt in the middle of the street, but the hustle and bustle of the busy trading center pushed him back and forth, and he scurried off to the side, completely and utterly lost.

He wasn't about to shout out for his father… He could only imagine that every father within hearing range would turn to look at him, and he'd rather not have that kind of attention.

So for a few minutes, he stood and watched the people as they flooded past him. Some pulled packhorses or mules behind them, others had oxen they were selling and trading, and still others pulled along their children. He slowly sank into a crouch between two vendor stands. The man on one side was selling horses, and the other was selling hay.

A perfect combination, he thought as he scooted as far back and out of sight as possible. He would wait here until he saw his father pass by, and then he would rejoin him. There would be no other way to find him…he was far too short to see over the people hurrying up and down the street.

Some time passed, and the din started to fade as the morning rush ended. He watched a tall man speak to the horse-selling man, and this man looked different than some of the others that he saw. Sacae was a strange country, or so he had heard from a lot of his peers back in the village, but…it didn't seem all that different to him. There were still people, and the people still talked and went about their daily lives. He'd heard there were "savages" there, but so far he had yet to find one, and to be perfectly honest, he'd rather not run into one.

The man spoke about buying a horse, and Kent found his accent to be rather intriguing. He pronounced a lot of words differently, but what the boy found especially interesting was that…he could still understand him. Every. Single. Word. And his voice was soft and quiet, very much unlike his own father's sharp, rough one. For a fleeting moment, he wished his father would bargain like the strange man did…

His eyes flickered downward, and he caught the gaze of a little girl that stood by the man's side. She was a tiny, thin little thing, and her waist-length hair was braided down her back. It had probably been neat and tidy that morning, but now strands were sticking out in every which direction, and her crudely chopped bangs were mussed, too.

She grinned at him, and he gave her a hesitant smile in return. After speaking a few quick words to her father, she scampered over to him and crouched down to join him. His first thought was that his mother would reprimand any girl who sat like that, but he noticed that her skirt was so long it didn't even matter.

"Hello," she said, but it sounded more like "_haloh_", and he blinked at her for a moment.

"Hello."

She leaned forward and looked at him closely, her large green eyes staring right at him. "What are you doing sitting here all alone?" she asked, cocking her head to the side slightly; her braid fell over her shoulder, and the end tickled the back of his hand.

"Uhm…" He looked down at his lap and then back out at the people rushing by. It wouldn't be very strong to admit to being lost, would it? No, probably not… "You're missing a tooth," he said instead, glancing back at her, and his words only made her grin wider.

"Yeah!" She poked her tongue through the hole where one of her front teeth had fallen out and nudged her head in the direction of her father. "When I finally got it out, Papa let me go on a hunting trip with him! It was _so_ fun, and we caught this deer that was bigger than him! He even let me hold the reins on the ride home!"

Kent wasn't sure what to think, but… Well, girls didn't go on hunting trips, and they didn't shoot deer, and they didn't even ride horses, did they? "You went hunting?" he asked incredulously.

"Yes, it was my first time, and I made Papa promise me that if I lose another tooth, I'll be allowed to go again." She flopped backward and sat on the floor next to him, tossing her hair nonchalantly over her shoulder. "I'm Lynd… Lyn. What's your name?"

He sat down, too, the crouch he was in was beginning to cramp his legs up. "I'm Kent," he answered shyly, completely unused to being spoken to by pretty girls. "It's a…uhm, pleasure to meet you, Lyn."

She beamed at him. "You're so polite," she said. "So, what are you doin' here in Bulgar, anyway? You don't _look_ like you're from around here."

"I'm from Caelin," he replied. "I'm here 'cause my mother is sick and Father says we can get good medicine for her, here."

"I've never heard of this…Cae…lin place. But the last part sounds like my name, so it must be good, right?" She chewed on her lip and reached a hand out, making him move backward.

"W-What?" he asked, confused.

"Your hair," she said. "It's…it's so _red_! Do people in Caelin normally have red hair, because I've never seen any before in my life…" She prodded at it and then pulled back, blushing lightly in embarrassment. "May I touch it?"

His own face reddened. People didn't…touch him. They just didn't. Except his mother. But the others, they didn't. Red hair was a little rare in Caelin, and probably everywhere, because he hadn't seen many others with it before, and it wasn't exactly a good thing most of the time. Being different usually wasn't.

But she wanted to touch it. Why? He didn't know. So he asked her.

"Because it's red!" was her answer, and he supposed that he would have to be satisfied with that.

So he nodded his head and she ran her fingers through his hair, just once, but it was enough to make him feel odd. "So does everyone in Caelin have red hair?" she asked again, laying her own hands in her lap as she watched him.

"N-No," he answered.

"Oh." She sounded disappointed. "Everyone in Sacae has hair my color or black. It's really boring." Their conversation slipped into silence for a moment, but before he knew it, she was back with more questions, "Uhm, I heard that men kiss the hands of women in other places. Do they do that in Caelin, too?" She took her hands and brushed her bangs out of her eyes.

"Yes." His voice was timid.

"Then why didn't you kiss mine?" she asked, a pout already forming on her face. "I'm a woman, you know."

"I know…"

"You don't like me?"

"I-I didn't say that!"

"Finally," she said, the pout disappearing. "I thought you'd never speak up." She smiled cheerfully at him, and he returned the gesture, though it wasn't nearly as enthusiastic on his part.

"M-Mostly knights do that kind of thing, though," he mumbled out, looking away from her.

"What's a knight?" She leaned forward eagerly.

"Well, uhm…they carry swords and they live in castles and protect the royalty that rule over the land."

"Ohhh! I've heard of royalty but we don't have that here, really." She twisted the fabric of her dress in one of her hands and leaned back against one of the rails of a corral that held a few horses. "My papa is the chief of the Lorca, so I guess that makes me some kind of uhm…"

"That's kind of a like a princess," he interjected quietly. "In the stories, knights protect princesses and kiss their hands and…fight dragons."

"Really? I wonder if I have a knight of my own somewhere… Hey, Kent?"

"What is it?"

"Are you going to be a knight someday?" She shifted her gaze to the sky and watched a cloud floating lazily overhead.

"I've already started training," he admitted slowly. "But I'm not very good yet."

"Oh, okay…" Then, a minute later, "But when you are good, are you going to come back here to protect me and fight dragons?"

"Uhm…"

"Not that I need any protecting. Papa's teaching me how to fight with a sword…just like him! He says it'd be good for me to know how to protect myself, but…what is it that Mama always says? Uhm… Oh! It's better to be safe than sorry!"

Suddenly, a head of familiar, thick auburn hair passed by, and he jumped to his feet, shocking the little girl that sat next to him. "I'm sorry, I have to—"

But she was on her feet and holding onto his arm. "But…"

"I'm really sorry, Lyn… Uhm…" Frantically, he looked around, and grasped her little hand in his. Quickly, and with a lot of awkward embarrassment on his part, he lifted it to his lips and planted a quick kiss on the back of it. "I'll come back an' protect you when I'm strong!" And with that, he took off before he could lose sight of his father, leaving the little Sacaen princess behind to stare after him sadly.

* * *

…_**xOx…**_

**Author Notes:**

What? I couldn't help it. It's been a while since I've done a 'fic about Kent and Lyndis. Anyway, Qieru and I were talking a long time ago, and we wondered if it was possible for them to meet as children. Well, you never know, right? Here's a silly little idea I've had for months now.

_Up Next: __"All the Pretty Ladies"  
_Theme #31: Choosing a target/Setting your sights


	20. All the Pretty Ladies: Sain, All Women

**All the Pretty Ladies  
By: Manna

* * *

  
**

…_**xOx…**_

The Fire Emblem 100 Challenge!  
**Theme #31: Choosing a target/Setting your sights  
Starring: Sain**  
**Genre: Wannabe Romance**  
**Warnings: **_**Rated T

* * *

  
**_

…_**xOx…**_

There! Right in front of him, a lovely blonde! Her eyes sparkle, her lips curve into a sweet, motherly smile. Oh, what a beautiful woman she is! It really is too bad that she's married, but just because she's got a ring doesn't mean that he can't look. He's not really doing anything bad. Oh, but a raised eyebrow from the husband sends him scurrying on his way, a chuckle making its way out from the back of his throat.

Sweet Priscilla, her red hair framing her face, bends over to pick an herb from beneath a tree, and he watches her, admiring her calm beauty. She's quiet, but there's just something about her that he can't resist. Maybe it's her green eyes or her tenderness with a roll of bandages, but either way, he doesn't stay long; an overprotective brother gives him the evil eye, and to avoid conflict—or so he says—he goes in search of another.

She's too young for him, but her bright cheerful attitude lifts everyone's spirits, and he really admires that. He's seen too much bloodshed to be quite as cheerful as he was at the journey's start, but little Nino's grin makes him feel like a teenager again, and before her "best friend" finds a way to plant a knife in his back—though really, he trusts the man…most of the time—he leaves. All he really wanted was to hear that light giggle of hers that makes him smile.

Her laugh is really sharp and some might even call it annoying, but a laugh is a laugh, and since laughter means that someone is having a good time, he enjoys hearing it. It doesn't really matter if it makes his eardrums feel as if they might explode or not. Serra's not as cheerful as she used to be, either, and sometimes he thinks that's one of many things they have in common. But he likes to tease her and she him, and it keeps the others on their toes. They make a great team, and he gives her a friendly wink as he saunters by, careful to avoid the steady gaze of Sir Oswin, and snorting back a loud laugh when Erk takes off while the cleric is waving back at him.

Isadora is a real lady knight, and he doesn't even bother to flirt with her because she's engaged, and even if she wasn't, there was a good chance he could end up with a spear pointed at his face. He doesn't much care for offending others, and he has found that watching her is almost more entertaining than playing a terrible prank on his boon companion. She'll look completely serious as she watches the sky or polishes her armor, and then, suddenly, she'll be smiling and blushing and shaking her head before her serious expression returns. A blond man walks by him, and he gives him a cursory nod before he leaves the lovely lady in the hands of her own knight.

He doesn't dare hit on her. Hell no. He might be a flirt, and he might love to toss compliments to the women of their little army left and right, but he knows he'll find his head on the end of a pike if he tells her she looks lovely. But she does! The scar's disfiguring, but she's a strong, capable woman, and isn't that attractive in its own right? Of course it is! She glares at him as he passes her by, muttering something about bloody moppets and shiny teapots, and he only smiles happily back at her. One of these days, he thinks, he's going to tell her she has the body of a goddess. Of course, he'll have to wait until, uhm, she's unconscious or dead to say it, but does it really matter?

His sweet wildflower is braiding daisy chains on the far side of the camp, and he stops to chat with her for a few minutes, watching her feet. A little birdie that carries a bow informed him of how hard the girl can kick, and he's determined not to get a boot shoved into his own gut if he can help it. He tells her that her hair is lovely, and he even gets a chance to set the crown of daisies on her head before he spies the little birdie at the top of the hill behind Rebecca waving his arms, mouthing a _No Fair, Sain!_ So he gives her a flourishing, deep bow and skedaddles out of there just as quick as he can.

He would never dream of stealing her away from Lord Eliwood, but she's an exquisite beauty. She laughs like a dream and dances like an angel, and it disappoints him that he can only watch. Why would St. Elimine be so cruel as to dangle such a beauty in front of him, completely out of his reach? But it's no matter! She's twirling and stepping into the redheaded man's embrace, and he politely turns his head to avoid seeing the kiss that he knows is coming. She doesn't _need_ his flattery, even though he'll give it to her anyway when her man isn't around, and she'll giggle and hide her face and he'll laugh and bow before leaving her to wonder why he's so strange.

Surely she's a gorgeous woman. Her long hair is dark, her smile hesitant but so pretty when it emerges… He only wishes that he could coax it out more often, but all he really manages to do is confuse her, and he wonders why she can't accept a simple compliment. He'll start slow, though, and he has a feeling that before he knows it, she'll be smiling every time he comes around. Oh, Karla, a name to match her beautiful face! He gives her a gentle wave as he walks by her, and all she does is nod in return.

Farina's such a pesky girl, a lot of the members of the army say, but he thinks she's fantastic. She has the pep that Nino does, a laugh like Lady Lyn's, a sly, sneaky nature like Serra, and a body all her own. If he has to conspire against Kent, he'll do so with the blue-haired beauty, and if he needs money… Well, he won't ask her. But he takes every opportunity to remind her that there is more to life than money, even though he never really says it directly. But the sun is shining, and oh, how it reflects off of her hair and her smile, though the smile almost looks sinister…

He wonders if she's hiding from her sister. She's crouched down in the corner of her tent, and she's studying something in her lap intently. She's a sweetheart, and he quietly coughs, causing her to look up. She scares so easily, but he knows that she'll overcome her fear someday. After all, she breaks free of it every time someone is in danger who needs her assistance, and he's confident that she's making progress. He lifts his hand in a quick wave, and she blinks at him, her eyes wide. He says nothing, only smiles, and he goes on his way, knowing he's not quite done with his rounds for the night.

Ah, she has a rugged look about her, but she's pretty in her own way. He's careful not to stare too openly lest his boon companion appear out of nowhere as he is prone to do where Lady Lyndis is concerned. When she looks his way, he waves at her enthusiastically and she smiles at him and raises her sword along with one of her eyebrows. He shakes his head, declining a sparring match against her—tsk, tsk, she can ask Kent if she wants to practice so bad—and blows her a flirty kiss. She crinkles her nose in disgust and makes a shooing motion with her hand. He's only too happy to comply because he sees the ol' carrot-top commander coming.

She's sweaty, but he'd like to hold her in his arms. No, not like…_love._ Maybe she's the one for him, and maybe she isn't, but how is one to know if they don't try to find out, right? So he watches her wipe her forehead off with a light towel and he's still observing when her steed nudges her gently for a treat. With a light laugh he rarely hears, she gives the beast a little bit of sugar and a rub on the nose. Ah, Fiora herself makes his heart soar, as if on the wings of Pegasus himself, and she's a force to be reckoned with, her shouts as strong as Pegasus's mighty roar that makes the heart of man tremble…but she's tender and sweet when she thinks nobody's there, and wonders sometimes if maybe she feels that people don't care. But he does, he really, truly does, and he smiles to see that she's all right before making his way to the fire for dinner.

When dinner is served, he takes his plate and glances around him. There's lovely Louise, little Nino, sweet Priscilla, clever Serra, pretty Rebecca, graceful Ninian, strong Vaida, sly Farina, shy Florina, amazing Isadora, confused Karla, beautiful Lady Lyndis, and fantastic Fiora. And then he prays, thanking Saint Elimine that he's surrounded by so much beauty.

Well, he does until Kent kicks him not-so kindly in the shin and Vaida mutters something about roasted Caelin knights.

* * *

…_**xOx…**_

**Author Notes:**

I wrote this on Black Friday, and I'm just now editing it. Anyway, who doesn't love Sain? We all do! The lines from Sain's thoughts on Fiora, about Pegasus's roar? (Note: Not "a" pegasus, but Pegasus himself!) Yeah, those were taken from _Rose of Versailles_; André thinks similar thoughts about his lovely lady Oscar when she is issuing orders.

Vaida was the most fun, though, I'll admit. I love her to death. Feedback is appreciated, thanks for reading!

_Up Next:__ "Assistance"_  
Theme #85: Strategy Conference


	21. Assistance: Hector, Florina, Sain, Kent

**Assistance   
By: Manna

* * *

  
**

**…_xOx…_**

The Fire Emblem 100 Challenge!**  
****Theme #85: Strategy Conference  
Starring: Hector, Sain  
****Genre: Humor  
****Warnings: _Rated T

* * *

  
_**

**…_xOx…_**

I thought that maybe he could help me, but the more time I spend in his presence, the more I think that he has no idea what he's talking about. I really just wanted to keep Florina from thinking that I'm a monster, but she still cowers and blushes in my presence, and when I get too close, she lets out this Elimine-awful shriek that I swear could shatter glass. The pitch is so high that I'm surprised it doesn't set the wild dogs of Elibe to howling. I know she thinks I'm some kind of monster, but he doesn't.

"It means she likes you," he tells me with a grin, and I want to go and find Lyn to strangle her—not literally—for suggesting the use of her knight to begin with, but instead, I settle for the sharp sting of pain that is my own palm connecting with my forehead.

"That doesn't even make any sense," I insist. "People don't scream when they see someone they like."

"No, no," he says, holding his hands out in a placating gesture. "You should hear all of the ladies of Caelin when they see me! They scream and faint just at the sight of this dashing soldier!"

"Out of pure fear," a new voice interjects, and I turn my head to see Lyn's other knight standing there, his expression completely serious. While Sain develops a hurt tone and immediately denies it, I find myself believing the redhead.

After a few moments, the other man shrugs and starts to walk off, and I shout after him, "Hey! Kent!" He turns to look at me, and so I continue, "You tell Lyndis that I am _through_ with her!" I wave exasperatedly toward the green-armored knight—who, by the way, is still in denial—and I think Kent understands.

No, I _know_ he does. After all, I guess I'm lucky that I don't have to spend too much time in the man's presence. Kent even has to go into battle with Sain…

The poor sap.

"Hey, hey, here she comes!" Sain says, and sure enough, the cute lavender-haired girl is headed in our general direction.

Lyn thought it was hysterical when I told her that I thought Florina was cute. I think I told her that I was through with her then, too, now that I think about it. At any rate, I'm honest—sometimes brutally so—and that's better than spewing out compliments like a certain knight I know. At least I know I mean what I say and say what I mean.

Telling Lyn that I'm through with her is an exception, but every time I tell her that, she just smiled cheerfully and says, _Thank you_, whatever _that's_ supposed to mean.

At any rate, Florina's coming closer, and Sain's practically bouncing on his heels. "I can't believe I'm helping someone win the heart of that fair lady," he mutters under his breath. But even I know he enjoys the excitement of it all more than anything.

Damn it, where is Kent to haul the troublemaker away before he can ruin everything?

"Now remember what we discussed. Strategy, Lord Hector! Strategy!"

I'm seriously considering smashing my head into a wall at this point, but I refrain. After all, Florina is close. If she saw me do something like that, she really _would_ think that I'm a monster. I can't have that.

When she walks by me, I offer her a nod and, well, I think it's a smile. I hope it is. I don't want to be grimacing at her, at any rate. "Hello, Florina."

"L-Lord Hector," she replies, giving me her best wobbly smile in return. At least she hasn't—

"Splendid, Lord Hector!" Sain suddenly shouts, standing up from where he was hiding next to a box just behind Florina.

The shy pegasus knight's scream fills the air.

If Florina wasn't so scared, and—dammit, there, she ran away!—then I'd almost put money on the fact that Lyn was somewhere nearby, laughing evilly at me. Crazy woman!

"Sain," I growl, pointing a finger directly at his sheepish grin. "Go tell Lyn that I am _through _with her! _Again!_"

I'm never listening to anything she says anymore.

* * *

…_**xOx…**_

**Author Notes:**

Not much to say about this one. "I'm through with you!" is a phrase we always say at work. Of course, that lasts about five minutes, and then we're talking to them again. "Wait, wasn't I through with you?"

_Up Next:__ "Uncoordinated"_  
Theme #52: Conquer


	22. Uncoordinated: Kent, Lyndis

**Uncoordinated****  
By: Manna

* * *

  
**

…_**xOx…**_

The Fire Emblem 100 Challenge!  
**Theme #52: Conquer  
Starring: Lyndis, Kent**  
**Genre: Romance, Humor**  
**Warnings: **_**Rated T

* * *

  
**_

…_**xOx…**_

The first time that it happened, she hardly noticed it. Of course, the ground was hard and her hands were scraped from her attempt to catch herself, but… Oh, there! A root. She must have tripped over it… The fact that the poor innocent root was only an inch and a half long and belonged to a dead dandelion did not matter.

It took the blame.

"Lady Lyndis," her red-armored knight asked as he kneeled next to her, his hand hovering a few inches from her elbow. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," she answered, thoroughly embarrassed as she peeled herself from the ground.

"As you say," he answered, but he sounded uncertain.

The second time, she was just minding her own business, when—okay, so she wasn't minding her own business. She was walking backward, talking to Florina and staring at Kent.

He had something in his hair.

Okay, so he didn't.

Some of his breakfast was apparently being saved for later, trying to hide in the little bit of stubble that had managed to grow since the last time he had shaved.

Okay, so that wasn't true, either.

She just liked looking at him.

It wasn't a crime, was it? Certainly not!

He was a fascinating person to look at. In Sacae, people didn't have blindingly bright hair like he did. Red. Orange. Auburn. Whatever name people used to describe it, she hadn't grown up around anybody with hair of such a wild shade.

But that didn't really matter. Walking backward while talking to a friend while also staring at someone else…well, it never amounted to much good. At least, not in Lyn's case. No, her rear end met the cold hard ground in a rather humiliating manner. It was a good thing most people didn't find Kent's presence amusing. Only Sain was with him, since they were walking at the back of the group, and Sain was too busy blabbering to realize what was going on.

Good thing, too, that Kent was looking at the ground and not at her.

Quickly, she pushed her skirts down and took Florina's offered hand to stand. She supposed she got what was coming to her for not paying attention, but…

"Lady Lyndis, are you all right?" both knights chorused at almost exactly the same time.

"I'm fine," she answered them, willing away the redness in her cheeks. What a spectacle!

Before she knew it, falling had become a habit for her.

Falling, and stuttering, and messing up and generally making a fool of herself.

She swore, if she heard one more, _Are you all right, Lady Lyndis_, she was going to burst into tears or fly into some kind of horrid rage. She was fine! Something always happened to make her look stupid whenever Kent was around, that was all. And why was that?

She wasn't sure.

But her backside was sore from landing on it a hundred times, and her hands ached from catching herself. She even stopped talking because every time she opened her mouth she said something that made her seem even more idiotic.

Then, of course, she would try to correct herself, and she would end up twisting her own words around. Her tongue would get heavy and her accent so thick she was sure no one even knew what she was saying.

Maybe it was better if she just…stayed away from Kent and kept her mouth shut. At least then she wouldn't make a total mockery of Caelin in front of the jumble of strangers who inhabited the same campsite.

But she liked Kent. And he was an attractive man in his own right so she couldn't stop looking at him. Of course, this led to its own mess of problems. For example, stumbling and falling down in front of everyone whose name was not Kent because she was too busy looking at him from a distance.

Not to mention that people kept snapping her out of her almost-daydreams. Confused and a little dazed, she would try to apologize and become tongue-tied. Which made her accent even thicker than Guy's when he was around Priscilla. Which made Lucius and Hector and Wil shake their heads. They had no idea what she was even saying.

Then, upset and feeling stupid, she would try not to have an emotional breakdown. It wasn't easy sometimes.

"Lyn, what are you doing down there?" Hector asked her one morning.

Three hours later, she heard, "Lyndis, are you quite all right?"

That afternoon, "Lady Lyn, here let me help you up!"

The final straw came that evening, as dusk settled over Elibe. Most of the camp stood around idly gossiping or talking. Lyndis sat on a log with Florina and watched a friendly sparring match between Kent and Sain.

(What better excuse could she find to admire him?)

She watched his every move. The way his muscles tensed and how he stepped, everything. Just then, he caught her gaze from over Sain's shoulder. She could have sworn that her heart was in her throat, but the next thing she knew, she was rubbing her head.

"O-Ouch…"

"Lyn! W-What's wrong?" Florina peered over the log.

Lyn's legs still crossed over the smooth bark, but her back was flat against the ground. A million words poured out of her mouth at once. Explanations, apologies for her slipup… But Florina just looked confused.

"Uhm… Maybe you should get some rest," she said softly, reaching out to help her friend up.

A slight nod was all she could manage. Her face felt as if it was on fire, and she was too afraid to look up lest she see Sain and Kent staring at her.

The next morning, she felt a lot better. It was probably because she hadn't made a fool of herself on a bright new day, but she was giving the credit to getting an extra two hours of sleep. That, and she hadn't seen Kent.

Usually that was bad. Seeing him looking all sleepy and not quite awake always made her feel great. (He was so cute!) But then she would probably fail to watch where she was going, trip over a bucket, fall into a horse, and almost get her face kicked in.

Not that…that had ever happened to her before…or anything.

Suddenly, Kent was right in front of her.

She nearly jumped out of her skin and let out a startled yelp as the ground rushed at her fa—no, wait.

A hand on her elbow kept her from actually going anywhere. With an embarrassed cough, she turned her head away. "Kent," was all she could say. She hoped that he could understand her.

"Ah, Lady Lyndis," the man said, pulling his hand back to rest at his side. "Several of us have noticed that as of late, you have been a little…off-balance?"

"Huh?" She was looking at him again. At his mouth as it moved, as a matter of fact. Nothing else really mattered. Of course, she was certain that what he was saying was important, but… Really, he didn't often say so much all at once…

The way his cheeks colored slightly as he fidgeted under her gaze made her grin.

"Lady Lyndis… euh, if it isn't too bold of me to say so, you have been…falling down a lot lately."

"Oh."

She took a step closer to him. Of course, she only did it because, uhm… Uhm… Because if she fell, then he would be there to catch her, of course.

"Maybe…you should s-see one of the healers."

Unfortunately, she was only watching his lips. They were a little chapped, but he was such a hard-working man… She could definitely appreciate that quality, considering how she had grown up. If you didn't work hard, you just didn't live.

The toe of her boot landed right on his, and she stumbled. She didn't even have the time to be embarrassed, to do anything. He leaned over slightly, his face red, his hands on her waist to steady her. She wondered if he even knew what he was doing.

Probably not.

She couldn't resist the urge to close that small gap and press her lips against his lightly. She pulled away, embarrassed, but strangely relieved. "I don't need to see a healer," she said smugly, her accent thick but not indecipherable. "I'm perfectly fine!"

And then, in her hurry to escape before she could embarrass herself, she turned and tripped over her own two feet, landing rather painfully on her backside.

* * *

…_**xOx…**_

**Author Notes:**

Well, this was lame. If you know what song this idea sprouted because of, you get bonus points!

_Up Next:__ "Worry"_  
Theme #83: Blood


	23. Worry: Kent, Lyndis

**Worry****  
By: Manna

* * *

  
**

…_**xOx…**_

The Fire Emblem 100 Challenge!  
**Theme #83: Blood  
Starring: Lyndis, Kent**  
**Genre: Romance, Humor**  
**Warnings: **_**Rated T

* * *

  
**_

…_**xOx…**_

If he thought hard enough, back a few years, to a crazy time in his life, he could remember what fear felt like. He had always been a worrier, something people tended to nag him about, but he couldn't change who he was.

When he and Sain had first found Lady Lyndis, well, he had been worried and relieved all at once. Thank Elimine they had found her, of course, but what could go wrong? Something could always go wrong.

And then, when Castle Caelin had come under attack thanks to Laus, well, instead of going to his men, he had gone in search of her. How could he not? Sometimes he wondered if it was his fault that several of his own men had died. Lady Lyndis was all that mattered though, and perhaps it was selfish of him, but he had been happy to see her in one piece. Of course, something could always go wrong, and sure enough, it did.

The next journey lasted…was it a year? One thing went wrong after another until the entire lot of men and women settled into a routine that involved walking and low morale. Walking for days and days in the rain, in the sun, in the snow… Even Sain's smile started to wilt.

Kent had been worried for months straight, unable to help himself. Sometimes someone would come up to him—Sir Wallace, Sir Marcus, even Lady Lyndis or Wil—and tell him to let it go, that things would be fine. But just because things were fine _at that moment_ didn't mean that they always would be. No, something was bound to go wrong, and his intuition was right.

Then he had had his feelings to worry about. Back in Caelin, it had been easy to keep such a stupid childish crush to himself and—thankfully—under control, but once they had begun traveling together and he saw her every day… It was yet another thing for him to worry about.

St. Elimine she was beautiful, but so many other people told her that, he didn't think she'd care to hear it from him, too. Though one day on the way back to Caelin, his feelings had made themselves apparent, even to her. Never, in a million years, did he think that he could be so happy.

But still, there was much to worry about. She was Marquess Hausen's granddaughter, after all. And he was nothing but a knight. Somehow, while he had been busy worrying, things had worked out.

"Nobody can tell me what I will or won't do," she had said to him just before yanking him down for a quick kiss. "I'm going to marry you."

They had married before Lord Hausen's death much to the delight of the old man; he had been able to see his granddaughter get married. It was, he confided, almost like seeing Madelyn. She looked so much like her mother sometimes.

After Marquess Hausen's death, Kent had taken what few things they owned, and he and Lyn had gone to Sacae. Together. Alone.

He had grown to love the endless sky and the miles of grass.

But one tiny thing worried him. Lyndis.

It hadn't bothered him until he noticed her belly getting rounder and rounder. And she had looked so beautiful that he didn't want to voice his concerns. Finally, though, she was so big he thought she might pop, and he convinced her to let him ride for a midwife.

"I don't need one," she had insisted. "I've seen a million births."

"But you've never given birth," he insisted, and he was off.

Maybe she didn't need anyone. But he wasn't going to take that chance. There were too many things that could go wrong, and he didn't trust himself to be the most reliable there was.

He returned three days later with not only a midwife, but the midwife's daughter as well. The more help they had, the better, he thought.

Nothing could have prepared him for the actual birth, though.

It was the most realistic fear he had ever felt in his life. It was worse than any battle. He had tried to stay away from the birthing. After all, most cultures didn't want men around to see it. But he couldn't take it anymore! If he heard her scream one more time, he knew he was going to go insane! Where was Sain to shake some sense into him?

Oh, Elimine, the things that could go wrong with a birth! Sometimes the baby died, sometimes the mother died and the baby was saved, and sometimes…sometimes neither one of them lived.

The next thing he knew, he was holding her hand and she was squeezing it so hard he thought maybe his bones were broken.

"Never again," she murmured between contractions, gritting her teeth.

His response was to tuck a sweaty strand of her hair behind her ear. She sighed and then groaned as the next contraction started.

"I swear, never again!"

And then she was crushing his hand again.

Though it must have felt like an eternity to her, less than an hour later, a loud wailing erupted from their newly-delivered baby.

"Well," Lyndis panted, not even bothering to try and sit up. "That took long enough."

He allowed himself the smallest of smiles and wiped her face off with a cool, wet cloth. "You did well."

A few minutes later, thanks to the assistance of the midwife and her daughter, the mess was cleaned up and the old woman approached with a freshly wrapped bundle in her arms.

"Okay," Lyn said, struggling to pull herself into a sitting position. "I want my baby."

"You might want to rest…" he started to say, but her glare silenced him.

"I was here screaming in pain for hours. I want my reward." Then she grinned as he obediently tucked a folded blanket behind her. "Come here, baby," she crooned, and her smile stretched across her face when she noted the auburn hair.

"It's a boy," the midwife said. "You already know what to do, so I'll be going."

"A boy…" Lyndis whispered after the midwife had gone with her daughter. "You know, my father would have loved to have had a son…"

"He has a grandson now," Kent replied, and reached out a finger to touch the baby's nose. "I think he has your nose."

"But your hair. It's very strange…I thought for sure his hair would look like mine…"

"I hoped it would."

"Why is that?"

He crinkled his nose a little and brushed her bangs out of her eyes. "I was always teased mercilessly about my hair."

"I like your hair." Suddenly, Lyn's eyes widened as she glanced down at the tiny baby in her arms. She winked at her husband slyly. "I think he's hungry," she said. "And for that matter, so am I."

"I'll get something, then," he said, and stood, but before he could leave, her voice stopped him.

"Kent?"

"Yes?"

"The next one gets my hair, but your nose."

He nodded, but deep down inside, he was already worrying. _Is she saying_, he thought, _that I have to do this again?

* * *

  
_

…_**xOx…**_

**Author Notes:**

This was…er…lame. Yes. Anyway…

_Up Next: __"A Little Change in My Pocket"_  
Theme #11: The Arena


	24. A Little Change in My Pocket: Farina

**A Little Change in My Pocket  
By: Manna

* * *

  
**

…_**xOx…**_

The Fire Emblem 100 Challenge!  
**Theme #11: The Arena  
Starring: Farina, Hector**  
**Genre: Romance, Humor**  
**Warnings: **_**Rated T

* * *

  
**_

…_**xOx…**_

She doesn't really want to go in there.

What person in their right mind would want to put their life at risk?

Oh, Hector. But wait—he's never been in his right mind.

The thought brings a smile to her lips as she pats Murphy's neck comfortingly. "We can do this," she tells him, and readies her lance.

Even though she doesn't want to do it, there's something strangely exciting about competing against someone else to see who is better. And sure, that stick-in-the-mud knight might be right! They do get enough experience in matters like that out on the battlefield… But there's no prize, there. Sometimes they manage to acquire another couple of horses or some food, some new weapons… But usually, there isn't any money.

And she loves money, craves it. She wonders how many of the others understand. Even her own sisters don't really get it, her thirst for more, more, _more_. But what if one day she looks in her satchel and there's no money there? What if she finds herself curled into a ball in the corner of a cold shack and she doesn't have any way to survive?

No, she's never going to let herself be put into that position again. She's never going to let someone suffer if she can help it. Nobody's going to have to pay because of a stupid mistake she made! She's not going to have to break her slice of bread in half to give to someone else to keep them from starving while her stomach gurgles in protest.

That's why she fights.

The gate opens, and Murphy's powerful wings take them up high. The man down below is chanting out a spell. She knows he doesn't stand a chance. She kicks Murphy into a dive.

She's going to end this because someday she might need that money.

She's going to end this because someday, someone else might need that money.

She's going to end this because… because…

She finds that she can't do it. She moves her lance at the last second, and Murphy's back hoof catches the man across the shoulder, sending him flying. They land badly, and she is unseated.

The man in unconscious, but he isn't dead. The money is hers.

She's strangely relieved.

She gets up and limps to Murphy, stroking his nose before telling him what a great job he did. They leave, their purse full, a smile on her lips.

Outside, she's greeted by several familiar faces, but only one comes up to her. "A noble carrot for your thoughts?" he asks, sarcasm flooding his voice.

She tries to scowl. "Shut up, Lord Hector," she snaps.

He shrugs and feeds it to her pegasus. The animal is such a traitor sometimes, she thinks. But she doesn't blame him—food _is_ food, after all.

"You're limping," he points out.

"And they told me you were known worldwide for your intelligence," she manages to say. "I'll have to inform them that they were mistaken."

He grins, and she finds that she's almost smiling too.

"You did pretty good in there," he admits. "I thought you were going to kill the guy."

It's her turn to shrug. "I didn't have to kill him to win."

The blue-haired Ostian is called away, and she finds herself looking down at her satchel of money. Guilt settles in her stomach, and even though she tries to shoo it away, she finds that she can't. She makes a lot of money. She makes more than both of her sisters combined. She makes more than…

She looks around.

More than anyone in the entire group. Her eyes skim over them all, and after a long time, they settle on a broad-shouldered man a few years older than her. Dorcas is his name. Sure, it's a silly name, but what right does she have to judge? Tch, none. She knows a little bit about him.

She's heard about his wife. Florina made sure to tell her all about the friends she had made on her journey to Caelin.

He needs money to cure his wife. That's why he's there.

She feels a slight pang in her chest. His wife.

She looks back down at the coins in her satchel. Murphy takes the opportunity to gnaw on the strings a little bit. Gently, she pushes his head away.

She doesn't want to admit it—to the others or herself—but she thinks she might know how Dorcas feels. She's been there before. She's needed money and had no way to get it. She's needed money, earned it, and been too late to use it for its intended purpose.

The coins jingle as she puts the satchel gently into the small bag on Murphy's saddle. She doesn't need the money _that_ badly, after all, she decides as she heads over to him. He's alone, watching a bird clean itself in the fountain. He's probably thinking about his wife.

Yeah, she tells herself. She'll put the money to good use. It's not like she's being generous or anything. She just doesn't need it right now.

* * *

…_**xOx…**_

**Author Notes:**

I love Farina. I think there is so much more to her than meets the eye. Anyway, the title came from the song "Keep Your Hands to Yourself" by the Georgia Satellites.

Feedback would be very appreciated, of course.

_Up Next: "The Caelin Police Force"_  
Theme #2: Preparation, Departure


	25. The Caelin Police Force: Wallace, Vaida

**The Caelin Police Force  
By: Manna

* * *

  
**

…_**xOx…**_

The Fire Emblem 100 Challenge!  
**Theme #2: Departure, Preparations  
Starring: Wallace, Vaida, Kent, Lyndis, Fiora, Sain**  
**Genre: Romance, Humor**  
**Warnings: **_**Rated T, Alternate Universe/Modern Day 'fic!**_

_**Also, this is the fault of: Jayden, Tabby, and Qieru.

* * *

  
**_

…_**xOx…**_

"If you ever expect to make it around here, you'd better buck up, pups!"

The group of policemen and women sighed and tried to edge toward the door. Well, one did.

"Sain, what do you think you're doing?"

The one named Sain stopped in his tracks and smiled sheepishly. "Nothing, Sir," he answered. "Just…answering the call of nature?"

A redheaded officer in the corner nearly choked on his coffee, and pulled his hat down over his eyes slightly to try and hide his embarrassment for his friend.

"Well! Why didn't you say so to begin with?" The big balding man at the center of the room—that meant he was the one in charge—shooed the other toward the door. "We don't want it leaking onto the floor, or staining your uniform!"

A woman standing next to the guy in urgent need of a bathroom backed away slightly.

Sain grinned at her winningly, which she ignored completely, before he flounced out the door. Everyone knew he was really going to get another cup of coffee and a donut before he and his partner—the redhead who had almost choked—had to make their rounds of the city.

Wallace grinned proudly at the Caelin Police Force. They were all able-bodied men and women… Well, all men and two women. But it was no matter. They were perfect for protecting the lovely town of Caelin!

Hands on his hips—no, wait, he had a cup of coffee in one hand, and a donut—er…make that two…no, three donuts—in the other—he surveyed the goings on in the few minutes before everyone would start their work.

"Kent," the pretty young Lyn sidled up to the redhead, who had finished almost choking, and took his tie in her hands. "Your tie's askew," she reassured him as he blushed and tried to ignore the fact that she was standing so close.

Wallace grinned even more. His tie looked better before Lyn had gotten hold of it.

Everything was in perfect order, so he strutted out of the room and down the hall on the way to get some more coffee. The more donuts one ate, the more coffee they needed. Being the Chief of Police, Wallace really had no choice but to sit at his desk, ramble about the "good old days on the force" and…eat donuts and drink coffee.

Sadly, when he got to the break room, someone stood there with a slobbering mangy mutt. And she was eating the last precious donut. The woman, not the mutt, though sometimes it could be hard to tell the difference between the two. People did have a tendency to pick pets that were just like them.

"What 'o you 'ant?" she asked, her mouth completely full, a cup of coffee in one hand, the last beautiful pastry halfway down her throat already. After she swallowed, she managed to say more, "Shouldn't you be retired by now, you rusty old tin can?"

"Vaida…" His voice was low, dangerous. He'd show her. She thought she could come in and show him up, the Chief of Police! The…the…the stupid head of the K9 squad—okay, the only officer in the K9 squad—thought she was better than he! Better than Wallace? Impossible! Things like that could not happen.

"Look, you conniving, slithering viper…"

The evil dog at her side growled menacingly.

"Dogs aren't allowed in here, _Vaida_."

"Umbriel is an important member of the _Caelin Police Force_, and he will stay right here."

"Why don't you transfer back to the Bern Police Force then?" He was grumpy, seeing as how he was out of donuts, now. Coffee without donuts just…it's not the same.

"So, when are we having your retirement party?" She blinked at him and held the mostly empty donut box out for Umbriel to lick the crumbs out of.

Wallace almost—_almost_—dove to save the crumbs, but he was too late. Let the stupid animal have the crumbs. He downed his coffee and threw it into the trashcan—oh dammit, he missed.

"You should get your eyes checked, old man," the snarky evil blonde said as she finished her coffee and made the trashcan with the empty cup from across the room. She was absolutely infuriating. He was surprised she didn't declare that she got three points from making the basket from where she stood.

But either way, he pulled out a pair of spectacles and blinked at her after putting them on. They made his eyes look ten times as big, but he _could_ see better.

Shuddering, he ripped them back off. "Good God, woman! You look even more like a lump of grey flesh than you do when I don't wear them. I think it's safer for my health to just keep them in my pocket."

She didn't answer.

"You know, I'm starting to think Umbriel is attractive when he stands next to you."

Vaida growled. Or was that Umbriel? He couldn't be certain. "You are lucky that we're on the same side."

"We are? It's hard to tell."

"Of course we are, worm-bait."

"Prove it."

"Certainly." She pointed to the cupboard underneath the coffee maker. "There's another box of donuts in there."

"Gwa ha ha! I knew you had it in you to be nice, Vaida!" And with that, he dove for the cabinet door and yanked it open, pulling out a beautiful new box of donuts. Cradling it in his arms for a moment, he stood and deposited it safely on the countertop and opened the lid.

Happily, he gathered up one—no, two…no, three—donuts, poured a new cup of coffee, and turned around to find Vaida and her mangy mutt gone. "I'll send you roses for this, Viper!" he shouted down the corridor, and made his way to his office, ready for another splendid day on the job.

* * *

…_**xOx…**_

**Author Notes:**

I kind of feel like I should die a terrible death for this.

_Up Next:_ "Quarrel"  
Theme #71: That Cute Child


	26. Quarrel: Kent, Lyndis, Rutger

**Quarrel  
By: Manna

* * *

  
**

**…_xOx…_**

**The Fire Emblem 100 Challenge!  
****Theme #71: That Cute Child  
Starring: Kent, Lyndis, Rutger  
Genre: Romance, Angst, Family  
****Warnings: _Rated T

* * *

  
_**

**…_xOx…_**

He loved his wife.

She was by the fire humming to herself.

He loved his son.

The little boy was flailing as Lyndis tried to put some food in his mouth.

But if there was one thing that he didn't love, it was…

A perfectly good meal went sailing right into the fire. Unsalvageable. Within a moment, it was gone.

Even though _that_ tended to get on his nerves ever so slightly, it wasn't the root of the problem. He watched as Lyndis tsk'd and sighed and then gave little Rutger exactly what it was he'd wanted all along—some of the fruit she had picked earlier.

"Lyndis." His voice was low, calm. It wasn't threatening, but that was only because he was forcing it not to sound that way. He loved Lyn, he didn't want to scare her.

"What is it, Kent?" she asked lightly, glancing at him as their two-year-old son grabbed pieces of the cut-up, juicy pears—a very, very rare find, especially with the lack of rain they had been having—and devoured them in mere moments.

"Must you coddle him so?" Maybe he was just in a bad mood.

No, it went deeper than that.

"What do you mean?" She looked almost confused, but her expression turned defensive.

"Lyn," he sighed, almost—_almost_—annoyed with her. "He's two years old. He can feed himself. He's old enough to—"

"Are you trying to say you know more about children—about our son—than I do?" Her accent was terribly thick—it had been that way to begin with but had thickened after more time spent on the plains—but he understood every word. Maybe he was starting to develop one, too.

"Two year olds can feed themselves," he countered. "They know to eat their food when they're told."

"He didn't do anything wrong!"

"You told him to eat his dinner six times and he _threw it into the fire_. Food's hard enough to find with the lack of rain, Lyn, and he knows better."

"He's just a child."

"He should know right from wrong, and you're spoiling him by letting him eat whatever he wants."

Their argument heightened, their voices getting louder and their words more harsh until Rutger, sticky face and hands and all, was on the verge of tears. His parents didn't notice—they were too busy trying to figure out if he was spoiled or not.

"You always let him get away with everything!" Kent exclaimed. He hadn't moved from his spot several yards from the fire, and Lyn had not moved from her place near Rutger. "If he cries or pouts, you give him anything he wants. You never discipline him for anything."

"He's only two years old, Kent! He can't do anything terribly wrong!"

"He should be going to bed without anything to eat because he refused to eat his dinner!"

"I-I can't believe you just said that!"

"He needs to learn right from wrong, Lyn. That means when he does something wrong, he needs to be punished for i—"

Rutger chose that moment to burst into tears, and Lyn threw a glare at her husband and picked him up, cuddling him close. The child clutched at the front of her shirt and wailed, and she gritted her teeth and brushed past him, heading for their house, hissing at him as she walked by, "Just because _your_ father beat _you_ for every little thing you did wrong does _not_ mean that I'll let you—or _anyone_—do that to _my son._"

He blinked, and she was gone, but her words hit him hard.

_His father._

Kent didn't often care to reflect on his father. The man wasn't all bad, but what Lyn had said…

It hurt. He sank to sit on a stool that he had made several years back, and he stayed there as he stared into the fire.

He didn't know what to say or think or…or _anything_. His father had beat him, of course. And he would never forget the stinging whippings he had received as a child. Perhaps the only thing that had taken him away from it had been going to train as a knight—but he couldn't be certain as to what was more painful, training as a knight or being whipped.

Neither had been much fun.

But it wasn't… It wasn't strange. It was the Lycian way, he thought to himself. Hadn't he told Lyndis that a long time ago? It was how things were done there… Nobody talked about it. The neighbor boy and girl who lived a few miles south of the farm Kent and his family had lived on had been whipped, too, just as bad as he had been. His family had been poor, but theirs had been worse off, their clothes threadbare, and they only owned one outfit. After one of the children received a beating, it was obvious by the stains on their clothes that wouldn't come out; they would look fresh.

But they didn't talk about it. It was a silent understanding—don't touch my back, don't hurt me, I'm in pain—and nobody did anything about it because there was nothing they could do.

One thing was for certain, though; they never did the same bad thing twice. Whether it was lingering too long doing their chores, talking back, or a myriad of other things.

But Kent had decided long ago that he would never, ever subject his own children to what he had been put through. It could have been worse, he supposed, but it could have been a lot better, too. Even as he sat there by the fire, he still couldn't be completely sure that his father actually loved him. Perhaps he did, but the man had always been more concerned with being in charge, in being obeyed, than he was in showing that he cared for his son, in acting like a father.

Kent still wasn't quite sure he knew what being a father was all about. His father had been…not so unusual from most fathers, but…

The auburn-haired man sighed a little as he remembered something; the only reason he even knew that there was a difference was because of Sain. Sain's own father had told stories and danced and played an instrument and joked and told his kids—all seven of them—that he loved them.

And Sain, while not always the most responsible person on Elibe, was a dependable friend, and a good man.

A good balance was what was important—discipline and love—but how could he explain that to Lyndis? He hadn't intended to make her angry, but…but it had to be said sooner or later. Rutger was already two years old—he could hardly believe it, himself—and was perfectly capable of feeding himself. He chose not to because Lyndis doted on him so. He couldn't blame her, exactly, but…a line had to be drawn somewhere.

…_**xOx…**_

Lyndis huffed and sat down inside their small home. Kent had built it with her help when they had first moved back to Sacae. He had insisted on an actual home, despite her hopes to live the traditional way. He said a home was sturdier, safer. Maybe he had been right about that.

But how could he act as if he knew more about children than she did? She remembered all of the children from the Lorca tribe. She remembered their faces, their names. And she remembered their screams as they had been killed. Or worse, but she never let herself think about that. Not if she could help it.

She smoothed back her son's auburn hair—so much like his father's—and kissed the top of his head. He settled quietly in her arms and sighed a little as he started to drift off to sleep.

She had babysat ten kids at one time, alone, without any help from anyone. She had helped with several births, and she had watched some of those children grow. She was a woman, and women knew more about children than men; that was just how it was. She had been raised knowing that she would someday marry and have babies. The idea had always intrigued her.

It still did. She could hardly believe that her little baby was already so big. He had Kent's hair and chin, her nose and cheekbones… She brushed his hair out of his eyes and smiled at his sleeping expression.

He was absolutely adorable.

Cute was too simple of a word to describe him.

Internally, Lyn was fighting. She had been too harsh on her husband. But a punishment? Was a punishment really necessary for a two year old? If he didn't want to eat, he didn't want to eat, right? Well, he had dumped a filling meal of meat and potatoes for an entire pear.

She felt a little guilty. She should have at least admonished him.

…Maybe.

Kent had left everything he had ever known to come to Sacae. He fished and hunted and tilled a little bit of land. They even had a few animals, some chickens, a couple of cows… Quite a few horses. And fences. How many years had it taken her husband to build those fences?

She remembered how hard he had worked, getting up before the sun and going to bed long after the light fled the sky. He had dropped into bed so exhausted he couldn't even speak.

And that had gone on for days until she had finally insisted that he rest, just once, just for a little bit.

She had helped when she could, but he had wanted to do it himself.

He had left everything for her. And he was right—it was harder to hunt because the lack of rain left less game to shoot and trap. Their small field was dry and if it didn't rain soon, they'd be lucky if everything didn't die.

"Mama…"

She looked down to see her son looking up at her, his expression somber, his large brown eyes blinking away tears.

"I thought you were sleeping, baby," she said.

"My tummy aches." His little hands clutched at his belly and he let out a hiccup.

Just then, it dawned on her. "That is what happens if you eat dessert and don't eat your supper first," she sighed, feeling his forehead. It was a little warm, but it probably wasn't a fever.

"I wan' Papa," he whined, curling into himself slightly, holding his tummy tighter. "Papa!"

The former knight was there in only a few moments, having heard his son from where he sat outside of the house. He blinked, confused, until Rutger answered his unspoken question for him.

"Papa, my tummy aches so bad!" He stared at his father with those big, brown eyes of his that always melted Lyn's heart. They didn't have quite the same effect on her husband, though, possibly because his son had inherited them from him; even though Kent's eyes didn't change, the hint of a smile started to tug at the corner of his lips.

"That's because you skipped your dinner and ate pears on an empty stomach," he said a matter-of-factly.

"Mama already said that," he pouted.

Kent turned to look at his wife. She smiled sheepishly at him and rocked her son a little bit in her arms. _I'm sorry_, she mouthed.

He nodded slightly and leaned close to her, tugging a few strands of her long hair away from her face to whisper in her ear, "I would never make the same mistakes my father made."

She looked down. "I know," she murmured.

He smiled slightly and put his hand on her back, rubbing lightly.

All was well between them again.

* * *

…_**xOx…**_

**Author Notes:**

This idea has been in my mind for months. I can only see Kent and Lyndis arguing about a few things, and one of those is how to discipline children (their cultures are very different) and the other is Lyn being able to protect herself.

This idea sounded much better in my head. This didn't turn out nearly as good as I had hoped. Men were usually the ones who did the punishing, and women were the ones less likely to do that. (In my family, though, my mother was the strict one, and my father, not so much.) On a quick side note, Sardonic Kender Smile and I seemed to have the same idea at relatively similar times. Great minds, you know?

Feedback is appreciated as always.

_Up Next:__ "In the Sand, In the Sun"_  
Theme #15: Crossing the Desert


	27. In the Sand, In the Sun: Kent, Lyndis

**In the Sand, In the Sun  
By: Manna

* * *

  
**

…_**xOx…**_

The Fire Emblem 100 Challenge!  
**Theme #15: Crossing the Desert  
Starring: Kent, Lyndis  
Genre: Romance**  
**Warnings: **_**Rated T

* * *

  
**_

…_**xOx…**_

Lyn was impressed by the Nabata desert. "It's almost like Sacae," she told Kent, who seemed wholeheartedly confused by her statement. "It looks pretty much the same for mile after mile…just like people think the plains of Sacae look."

Her outlook changed quickly when the heat became almost unbearable and the pace they traveled at slowed to a crawl…if it could be called that. No, the horses were exhausted, and so were they. The entire army seemed to struggle to keep moving.

"You know," Hector rasped, Nils no longer perched on his shoulders, but seeking shelter in Merlinus's wagon, instead, "We can't stop now."

"Stopping now would be an utter disaster," Eliwood said, shaking his head as Ninian leaned against him just the smallest bit. Lyn couldn't help but notice that his hand on hers shifted, squeezing gently. "We've only got what water we've managed to bring with us, and we can't afford to stop, though I wish we could."

With a quiet sigh that she hoped no one else heard, she let herself fall back in the formation a bit. What little shade the wagon provided, be it the seat, the inside, or even the shaded side of it, was taken by Lucius—who had been forced to rest in the back of the wagon—and Serra, not to mention Erk, Merlinus himself, and Priscilla.

The sun was finally beginning to dip down into the west, indicating the second or third hour of the afternoon, but the heat was unrelenting, perhaps worse than it had been since they dared to enter the desert. Lyndis was used to the heat, though certainly in Sacae the sun didn't glare with quite so much ferocity…

The pegasi plodded along slowly, their thicker fur not helping in the slightest. Florina was listening to Serra babble from her perch on Huey's back, right beside the front of the wagon, and Lyndis gave her an encouraging smile as they passed her. Finally, after an eternity, the last of the group came into view—Sain, Wil, and Kent.

She blinked in confusion and stared for a long moment before she realized what looked wrong with the picture she was seeing. Instead of Kent and Sain being on horseback, Wil and Sain were. She worked her way right into the middle of them, standing next to Kent.

"Why is Wil riding your horse?" she asked bluntly, never one to beat around the bush when there was information she wanted.

She didn't really have to ask; she knew the answer already…or at least, part of it. Wil looked positively beat. He was leaning over the neck of Kent's obviously exhausted steed, his eyes dull, sweat trickling down his face only to be burned out of existence, leaving salty tracks behind.

"She hasn't the strength to carry me, milady."

Sain nodded in agreement, but shrugged his shoulders, "My Bonnie is faring better by comparison, Lady Lyn, but I'm afraid even she can't take much more of this heat."

Both horses were struggling, but Lyn understood. She fell into step with Kent, observing him closely. He had always worked hard, and it was something she had taken note of shortly after meeting him. Things had not changed since their trip from Sacae to Caelin; the auburn-haired man was as dedicated as ever, if not more so now than before. His immense dedication was both amazing and frustrating… Perhaps amazingly frustrating was a better term. He tended to neglect himself in favor of quietly doing what was supposed to be done… He was definitely not a complainer—at least, he rarely did so aloud.

"Kent, you look positively ill." It was whispered, barely making it past her lips, but he seemed to hear her, inclining his head slightly as his gauntleted hands fumbled with his horse's reins.

"Don't worry yourself, my lady."

She didn't have the strength to argue, and, she supposed, he didn't either. So she continued to walk with the three men that she trusted more than any other men in the world. After all, how many times had her life been in their hands? How often had each of them put their own well being after hers?

So she didn't argue, but she kept watching him. Them. All of them. Wil hardly seemed coherent at all, the back of his neck so red she knew it had to be hurting. Sain wasn't expending much energy, barely risking a glance around to make sure they weren't being ambushed.

_As if anybody would ambush us in this despicable heat_, she mused.

She shifted her gaze to the man walking next to her. He was in much the same position Sain was in—wearing all his armor, plus a long, warm shirt beneath it all…perhaps he even had a shirt on underneath that one, too. She never could be certain about such things. The skin that was exposed, though—his fingers, his face and part of his neck—had burned terribly red, making his hair look more orange than auburn. She wondered if maybe the shirt was protecting him in a sense, though she couldn't be certain if his reddened face was completely burned, or if it was red from exertion.

Almost without meaning to, she reached a hand out, promptly snatching it back as it came into contact with the scorching metal of his armor.

"M-Milady Lyndis!" he managed, his voice sounding dry. "Please, be careful."

She nodded in reply, nursing her burned fingers, but when he shifted the reins to his left hand and reached for hers with his right, she surrendered it willingly.

"I am sorry," he said after quickly looking her hand over. "It shouldn't hurt for much longer." He squeezed her hand slightly before trying to pull away.

She liked the feel of his hand, the thought of him holding her hand. She could feel where the sun had blistered his skin, where calluses had formed from years of using weapons, and she could run the pads of her fingertips over the small raised bumps that were testimony to his determination to protect her with his life; it was almost like she could learn more about him from a simple touch than by asking any questions.

It was so hot she almost felt faint. So she let him take his hand back, let him pull away from her, leaving her with only the searing sunlight and the sand beneath her feet. She didn't even have the energy to sigh.

_Damn this desert_, she inwardly moaned. If they had been anywhere else—_anywhere at all_—she wouldn't have let him have his hand back for anything.

…_**xOx…**_

She couldn't be sure how, but they had all survived the intense heat of the day. Late afternoon had fallen upon them, and, after a lot of convincing on Eliwood's part—Hector and a few others were determined to just get the whole ordeal over and done with—they finally stopped for the night.

"We should stop now," the redheaded future marquess of Pherae murmured. "The sooner we do, the sooner we'll wake up. Traveling in the early morning will be much more convenient." Even though he sounded completely rational, everyone from Lucius to Marcus knew that he was thinking primarily of fragile Ninian, who seemed ready to fall over if a wind decided to blow across the land.

The poor girl was looking just as bad as, if not worse than, Kent, so Lyn couldn't be more grateful for the news to make camp. Everyone did so slowly, methodically. Conversation was limited to necessary speaking only, and even Serra cut her usual chatter in half. Lyn herself hardly even felt conscious as she tried to set up her tent. She had no luck, and as she looked around her, she realized that nobody else did, either. They were trying to nail stakes into the sand, after all.

After some time had passed, and a few arguments—that were unusually soft-spoken—broke out from the various members of the army, a tarp was stretched from the roof of Merlinus's wagon over the sand, and tied securely to the only bit of solid ground they could manage to find. They did the same on the other side, leaving two long, narrow strips of shade.

The sun was fast sinking, and everyone hurried to grab blankets and settle on the sand, however uncomfortable they found it to be. Lyndis found herself between Florina and Kent—absolutely satisfactory, in her opinion. She sighed and dropped down to the ground feeling utterly exhausted. Florina was asleep within a moment, and Lyndis was sure she wouldn't last much longer, herself.

She was right.

She tried, but couldn't manage to keep her eyes open long enough to even bid Kent a good night.

…_**xOx…**_

Several hours later, she jerked awake unexpectedly as a shiver forced its way down her spine. Blinking, she could make out Florina's small form next to her, gripping the edge of her blanket tightly, seeking warmth.

Her mouth was terribly dry and her throat parched. She didn't dare try to speak, but licked her cracked lips in an effort to relieve the pain they were causing her. It only seemed to hurt worse, and inwardly, she groaned at the feel of the cold air on her sunburned arms and legs.

_Cold air?_ She turned the thought over in her mind for a moment before nearly bursting into confused tears. She was _so_ tired and they still had at least another day in the desert, if not more. Wasn't it hot? Why was it cold?

Maybe she was imagining it. So she reached over and touched Florina's cheek, gently. It was cold, even to her burned fingertips. Her friend sighed a little at the touch, and without even thinking twice, Lyn sat up and took her blanket out from under her before shaking it out. Really, Florina needed it more than she did, didn't she? And what kind of friend would she be if she didn't look out for her?

She draped it over the petite pegasus knight and smiled as the small girl curled into herself and absorbed all of the warmth the blanket had to offer.

Letting out a ragged breath, the Sacaen woman tried to settle down again to sleep, but found that no matter how long she tried, it was impossible. Every time she found herself nodding off, she would shudder from the cold and find her eyes open again.

An hour or two passed this way, with Lyn nearly falling asleep only to jerk awake, before she felt something warm drape over her. She was so exhausted that it took everything in her to open her eyes; she had to protest.

She knew who it was who had given her their blanket. It was always the same person, the same _exact_ person who cared more than he should—or so he claimed—and gave up far more than necessary—or so _she_ claimed—to ensure her safety and comfort and happiness every single day.

"Kent," she found herself murmuring, barely managing to crack one eye open. The glow of the moon gave her a good enough view of him lying next to her, blinking those dark eyes of his as if he hadn't just given up something for her.

"What is the matter, milady?" he asked, his voice so soft she could scarcely hear it.

She found herself moving closer to him, taking his blanket with her. "You can't give up your blanket, Kent," she insisted, her accent thick with sleep. "You have to take it back." She wasn't sure if he could understand her, exactly. Maybe if she just hugged him he would know everything—that she appreciated the fact that he cared, though he shouldn't sacrifice his own comforts for her—but he was just out of her reach.

"Keep it, Lady Lyndis," he answered. "You need it more than I."

Perhaps he was right. He did have that warm shirt of his, and pants that covered his legs…not to mention socks. But she still didn't feel right taking it from him, so she closed the distance between them and lifted the edge of the blanket, draping it over him as she scooted closer, clutching the front of his shirt firmly to keep him from getting away. "We can share it, then," she smiled, her lips hurting from being stretched.

"M-Milady, what if…?"

But she shook her head and gestured over to the other side of Kent, where Serra was using Lucius as a pillow. "Nobody will say anything," she sighed, tucking her head against his chest, carefully avoiding the burned, probably blistering skin of his neck and face.

That seemed to settle it; he allowed her to stay there, even going so far as to let one of his arms rest protectively over her side. Lyndis, of course, had no complaints, and any that he might have had—mostly consisting of their conduct being _entirely_ improper—were never voiced.

She fell asleep to the _ba-dum-bump_ of her knight's heart, its not-quite rhythmic beat betraying the fact that he was just a little uncomfortable, perhaps a little more nervous, and _hopefully,_ she thought, not so embarrassed that he would be opposed to holding her hand again as soon as they left the Nabata Desert.

…_**xOx…**_

The two of them awoke to utter chaos in the morning. The sun hadn't bothered to show itself—for which Lyndis was very, very grateful—and Hector was trouncing all over the little piles of sand, wiggling around as if he had gone insane.

Lyn tried to bury her face back into the relative darkness of Kent's shirt, but he gently—though firmly—pulled away and sat up, leaving her to rub at her eyes as she tried to figure out what was going on.

It only took a moment for her to realize what Hector was doing as she nearly rubbed sand into her eyeballs.

It was _everywhere._

In her hair, in her clothes…

She jumped to her feet within seconds and tried to shake the sand out of her. It felt like it was even in every nook and cranny and _ugh_! It didn't take long to get out of her clothes, but her hair…that could take a long time…

"Blast it, Eliwood! Whose idea was it to come here, again?!" The blue-haired Ostian jumped around and tried to shake the sand out of his pants. "Dear Elimine, it's in _every crack_ and just… Argh!" He growled in frustration and turned to stare at Lyndis.

She just grinned slyly as she threaded her fingers through her long hair in an attempt to loosen the sand that had gotten stuck there. "Problems, Hector?"

"You…" He glared and then gave up, stomping off somewhere else.

Lyn couldn't help but notice that his backside was still covered in sand.

Kent dusted himself off, and Lyn reached over to brush some sand out of his bright hair. His face was terribly burned, and she could almost make out freckles on the bridge of his nose. Maybe as a child he had had them, and they had faded as he had aged. Smiling, she entertained the thought.

"T-Thank you, milady," he muttered, his embarrassment obvious in his expression.

Before she could help him get the sand out of his clothes, though—because that _was_ awfully tempting—Lucius sat up and noticed Serra using his stomach as a pillow, her hands fisted in the material of his robes. "D-Dear Elimine!" he squeaked, his face heating up quickly as he tried to jump away from her with absolutely no luck. Just then, he stopped, blinked, and shuddered. "I-I think I have sand in…" He trailed off, suddenly feeling very uncomfortable.

Lyn plucked at the grains of sand that had stuck to her legs and reached for Kent's hand with her free one, tugging him toward her gently. "Kent," she whispered when he was close enough. "I've got sand _everywhere_. Do you think you could help me—?"

The look on his face was horrified, embarrassed, and nervous all at once. She couldn't keep up such a charade.

"I'm only teasing," she said softly, turning around and leaning back against him. His hands automatically went out to her waist, barely touching her, keeping her from leaning back too far. "I have sand in my hair, and I need help getting it out."

"Of course, milady Lyndis," he said as evenly as he could, though she detected a tremor of uncertainty in his voice.

"Thank you, Kent." With that, she put both of her hands on his and pulled his arms completely around her, threading her fingers through his. "Also, I take back what I said yesterday."

"What do you mean milady?" He sounded confused, but he didn't make even the smallest attempt to take his hands back.

"What I said about this place being like Sacae," she said, sighing. "I was wrong… It's _nothing_ like Sacae."

* * *

…_**xOx…**_

**Author Notes: **

This was corny and dorky and yes. I love Kent. I love Lyndis. And together they will take over FFN!

I hope this was an enjoyable read. Feedback is, as always, appreciated!

_Up Next:__ "Lost and Found"_  
Theme #33: Rescue


	28. Lost and Found: Lyndis, Wallace

**Lost and Found  
By: Manna

* * *

  
**

…_**xOx…**_

The Fire Emblem 100 Challenge!**  
Theme #33: Rescue  
Starring: Lyndis, Wallace****  
Genre: Friendship**  
**Warnings: **_**Rated T

* * *

  
**_

…_**xOx…**_

Rising, falling.

They're axes, always axes. The usual weapon of a poor man, a man driven to the brink of desperation, the kind of man who looks for an easier, lazier way of life.

Some days it's hard to speak to Hector without remembering the blood splattered against the grass.

It's everywhere. In reality, in dreams. The visions twist and swirl, changing, morphing; friends turn into foes, and she doesn't know if she's asleep or awake anymore. In the morning she can't look at them, those whose faces made her people scream, made them beg, plead, down on their knees, tears staining their faces; how disgraceful to die crying, begging for mercy from filthy scum like the Taliver! They couldn't help it; they were desperate to live.

But it's hard for her to understand. Just like she doesn't understand why the other survivors don't seek revenge as the customs insist. What is wrong with them? Are they afraid, she wonders? But afraid of what? Of death?

Death is only what comes after life. There is nothing to fear in death but release from life.

Tossing and turning at night, she thinks that maybe it wouldn't be so bad; it would be worth it if the Taliver died by her hand.

A tinge of doubt works its way into her heart, but she ignores it. The Taliver have to die. Nobody else will do it, so the duty falls to her.

Duty.

_Hah._

Duty reminds her of Kent.

Kent reminds her of Sain.

Sain and Kent remind her of Caelin, and the family that waits for her there. Her family of one, but it's better than no family at all.

Maybe the revenge can wait, she tells herself. Just until her grandfather has gone to a better place. Then…then she will join him after putting an end to the Taliver, to their plundering and killing and selling of slaves. She wonders if anyone from her tribe is alive that she doesn't know about.

She's almost glad her mother's body was accounted for, even though she never saw it with her own eyes.

Revenge is a duty she doesn't want, she almost resents it—_why me?_—but she knows it's necessary.

She wonders if Kent and Sain view her in the same light. Protecting her is a _necessity_. She wonders if they resent her.

Lyn knows they don't, but the thought nags at her.

Wallace, former Caelin general, tells her the news—_"The Taliver are dead."_—so she wonders if she's dreaming. But he keeps talking—_"I killed them all, myself."_—and it scares her—_"I did it for you."_

He took away—

He ruined—

Her duty shatters before her into thousands of shards of _it's over_.

She's suddenly without. Without what? Purpose?

That night she can't sleep. She keeps thinking, wondering.

Her family—Hassar, Madelyn—she loves them, misses them. But she's failed them, their memory. She isn't worthy to be their daughter. Another man has taken revenge in her place. Another man has destroyed the people who destroyed the Lorca.

She doesn't—she…

The laws, the customs of the Lorca. She doesn't remember them.

What happens if someone is killed, and the murderer is killed by a third party? What are the rules, the effects of that? She thinks and thinks and thinks.

Days pass, and she's still thinking.

What happens to a woman who can't even get her own revenge?

The others notice the changes in her. It worries them—Kent, Sain, Florina—that she's withdrawing into herself, and her silences are unusual, prompting sympathy looks that she would normally never get from Hector.

She avoids him like the plague.

He doesn't know why.

It's his axe.

It reminds her of how she's failed.

But she won't tell him that.

Is she worthy of returning to the plains? When her grandfather dies, she will have no family, none at all. She will be alone again.

The thought scares her a little; she loves the plains, but…

Loneliness…

No, she doesn't want that again.

How long will it be until she can join them? She wants her family back. All of them. Every last one.

Evening falls, and the sky is a blue so dark that it's almost black. One moment, she's looking into the fire, and the next moment, she _sees_.

Kent has fallen asleep while polishing his armor—he's so handsome with his hair in his face like that, she thinks. Sain's watching the stars come out—maybe he's a more serious romantic than anyone takes him for. Eliwood's stroking Ninian's hair by the fire—they're both smiling so sweetly it makes her smile, too. Florina's quietly braiding Huey's hair—Lyn remembers teaching her how to do that. Hector's arguing with Farina—she swears he mentions carrots of the noble sort.

She blinks, once, very slowly, and when she opens her eyes…

It's still there.

Wil is telling a story to a rapt audience. Lucius is saying prayers. Serra is reading over Erk's shoulder. Dorcas is talking with Merlinus and Bartre. Pent and Louise are curled up next to one another, sleeping peacefully.

Wallace is alone.

Before she even knows what she's doing, she's running to him, to the man that Kent and Sain look up to, to the man who had killed those _she_ was supposed to kill.

To the man who had snatched her duty away from her.

She throws her arms around his neck and kisses his cheek, leaving the bald general quite shocked. "Lady Lyn!" he laughs, and blinks before tilting his head to the side. "What has you in such good spirits all of a sudden?"

Maybe in a minute she'll move Kent's armor and bring him a blanket, or talk about constellations with Sain, or help Florina braid Huey's mane.

Her heart's pounding in her chest as she lets go of him and throws a glance over her shoulder at all of the people standing, sitting, sleeping, talking.

Maybe…she'll do all three, in that order.

"Thank you," she says, her voice falling to a gentle whisper. "Thank you for giving me my family back."

Before he can say anything, before he can wonder at her actions, she spins around and runs back to them, to her _family_.

* * *

…_**xOx…**_

**Author Notes: **

I loved writing this. I always thought that Lyndis might view the people she was closest to in the group as kind of a family…even if she didn't quite realize it. Good thing Wallace came around and woke her up to it, eh? Thanks for reading; feedback would be appreciated.

_Up Next:__ "Shadow"_  
Theme #58: Brother


	29. Shadow: Kent, Wil

**Shadow**  
**By: Manna

* * *

  
**

…_**xOx…**_

The Fire Emblem 100 Challenge!

**Theme #58: Brother  
Starring: Kent, Wil****  
Genre: Friendship**  
**Warnings: **_**Rated K+

* * *

  
**_

…_**xOx…**_

He had a shadow.

Two shadows, to be specific. One was a mirror image of himself, except black, and it showed up on walls and the ground when the sun was out. The other shadow had brown hair, brown eyes, and a smile that was probably brighter than the sun.

It had been two months since they had taken Caelin back from Lundgren's clutches, and for reasons Kent couldn't understand, the three-dimensional shadow kept following him. Almost everywhere. Up the stairs, down the corridor, to lunch, to dinner, to the training grounds, to town, to the throne room, to Lady Lyndis's room—n-not that he would go there without a very good reason, of course!—and even to the stables.

Every last shred of alone time he had was ruined by his shadow. Sometimes it spoke to him, sometimes it didn't. Sain asked about it, Kent shrugged. Florina blinked and raised an eyebrow, Kent blinked back. Lyndis put her hand on his arm and peered around behind him to see what was following him around, Kent blus—well, wait.

At any rate, no matter what he did, his shadow followed.

Finally, he turned around. "Wil, did you need something?"

The dark-haired youth smiled widely and chirped, "Nothing at all, Sir Kent! I'm just following you around, learning manners…"

He raised an eyebrow.

"You know, you open doors for people and everything, but I already knew about that… You're probably the most chivalrous guy here except for Sain. Yesterday I heard him compliment some women… Hey, why don't you do that? You know, women seem to like you until you just stand there all quiet and distant… I'll bet Lady Lyndis might like you more if you talked, too."

Kent sighed.

"I never knew there was a proper way to hold a fork until I watched you eat. I'm learning a lot by watching you. One of these days I'll figure out how to bow correctly, too… I'm still really terrible at it."

Kent started to walk to his room.

Still talking, Wil followed, "You know, when I was a kid, I had a really good friend. We were like brothers, I guess. Twin brothers, actually. We learned and did everything together. It was pretty neat. I think we even fell for the same girl when we were five years old… But anyway, I don't actually do anything with you, really, so much as I learn from watching you."

They had reached Kent's room, and he opened the door, waiting for Wil to finish his story.

"I guess that makes you kind of like an older brother to me, since you teach me so much." The youth smiled at him again, twice as wide as before, and gave him the sloppiest salute he had ever seen in his entire life. "Well, Sir Kent, good night! I'll learn more from you tomorrow!" And with that, he skipped off, whistling happily to himself.

Kent blinked, walked into his sparsely furnished room, and closed the door behind him. Then he smiled, just the smallest bit, and pondered for a few moments before he sat on the edge of his bed, the frame creaking slightly, and started to remove his armor.

If he…got through patrolling a few minutes early, maybe…he would have the time to teach Wil proper manners instead of letting him learn merely by observation. There were too many things that one might not get the chance to use in an everyday situation. Things that would pop up at parties and such…

He wasn't about to teach Wil to dance—Sain was much better at that kind of thing—but proper etiquette at a ball might be something important, considering Caelin would be bound to host one for Lady Lyndis's upcoming birthday.

And that was only a week away.

* * *

…_**xOx…**_

**Author Notes:**

This was really lame. I'm sorry. But I always thought

_Up Next:__ "Common Ground"_  
Theme #45: Grassy Plain


	30. Common Ground: Lyndis, Dart

**Common Ground****  
By: Manna

* * *

  
**

…_**xOx…**_

The Fire Emblem 100 Challenge!**  
Theme #45: Grassy Plain  
Starring: Lyndis, Dart****  
Genre: Friendship**  
**Warnings: **_**Rated K+

* * *

  
**_

…_**xOx…**_

She felt a little nauseous, but she couldn't stop. Waves rolled against the _Davros_, rocking the vessel back and forth, and still, she leaned over the rails of the desk to get a closer look at the endless ocean.

"Pretty, i'n it?" A voice startled her out of her state of not-quite awareness, making her whip her head around to stare at the speaker—an act that she immediately regretted.

Instead of replying, she turned back to let her neck rest against the rail. Of all the rotten luck in the world, the pirate was talking to her. Well, he couldn't be too bad, she thought, considering his hesitation to touch Ninian in case he did so inappropriately; she had been so shocked by it that there was no way she could forget it.

It reminded her of Kent; that was exactly like something he would do.

"It just seems to stretch on forever." The pirate leaned his elbows against the top rail and grinned out over the vast ocean around them.

"I thank Mother Earth that it doesn't." She groaned a little and closed her eyes, hands feeling for the deck to make sure it was still there beneath her.

"You don't like the beautiful ocean?" He chuckled with some amount of mirth in his voice.

"I like the beautiful—" the boat lurched, making her nearly gag, "—land."

"O' course a land-lover like y'self would prefer the land." He angled his head to grin down at her in amusement. "Oi, only two m're days 'til we pull into Badon."

She groaned again.

"You're from Sacae, right?"

She nodded wearily, opening her eyes to look at him.

"This ocean's a lot like Sacae, I reckon. The only difference is that th' wind blows through grass in Sacae and water 'ere on the ocean." He looked back over the waves. "When we get back into Badon, we'll be partin' ways, me 'n' you."

"Oh?"

He laughed, "Ol' Fargus needs me back on 'is crew, ag'in. Now, I know ye don't like pirates none, but—"

"Not bad," she murmured, eyes closed again. "…For a no-good plundering, pillaging pirate."

"Why, thank you." He blinked and kneeled down next to her. "Well, Lady Lyndis, I daresay y' look green 'round the gills, so to speak. Now why're ye watchin' the ocean for if it makes ye so sick?"

"Almost reminds me of home," she said. "And I can't go back for 'while." Just then, a wave crashed against the side of the pirate ship, and in short order, whatever Lyndis might have eaten during the day—certainly not much, if anything at all—ended up in the churning water.

Dart cringed. "That…yeesh, girlie. Stay right here. I'll bring ye that gentleman knight o' y'rs; last I saw, he was runnin' 'round panicking 'cause he didn't know where ye had gone off to."

She gagged again as more water hit the side of the boat, some even spraying onto the deck, leaving her clothes and her hair damp.

"Don' worry ye none, lass" he said, awkwardly patting her back once. "I'll, uh, be right back with y're Sir Kent, and he can have, uh, the honor of taking ye below deck!"

And with that, he disappeared, only moments before the noble (though she certainly looked anything but, at the moment) lady of Caelin tried to relieve her stomach of its already-empty contents.

* * *

…_**xOx…**_

**Author Notes:**

Because I could see Lyndis getting seasick, and Dart's too nice of a guy for her to hate him for too long. This is supposed to take place after Nergal's defeat, as they head back to Badon for the final time. Feedback is very much appreciated. =]

_Up Next:__ "The Greatest of These"_  
Theme #16: Scarred


	31. The Greatest of These: Kent, Lyndis

**The Greatest of These**  
**By: Manna

* * *

  
**

…_**xOx…**_

The Fire Emblem 100 Challenge!**  
Theme #16: Scarred  
Starring: Lyndis, Kent, Florina, Vaida, Sain****  
Genre: Drama, Angst, Friendship, Romance**  
**Warnings: **_**Rated K+

* * *

  
**_

…_**xOx…**_

She felt the burning, the scorching, the smell of fire meeting skin, making it bubble up, distort, melt; then she realized that the flesh was her own. Pain filled her senses and she found herself falling, falling, her arms over her face as if the gesture would protect her, as if she could get away from it that easily.

Suddenly, she was grabbed and strong hands clamped down on her arms as they wrapped her securely in a thick, woolen blanket before shoving her forcefully to the ground; she was rolled over once, twice, thrice. And then, then the fire was out. But she was still burning, burning, trembling. Her eyes remained closed, squeezed shut, but she knew the arms around her, knew them well, remembered them holding her close many times before.

Every time she was in trouble, those arms were there. Every time she needed them, they were there. She knew exactly whose they were.

She recognized some of the voices around her; there was a terrible, high-pitched shrieking that came to a sudden halt, accompanied by the _oof_ of someone. _Florina_, she thought frantically. She hoped someone had caught her. The sound of a horse's hooves—only one horse, she thought—echoed in her ears as the acidic scent of burnt hair crept up her nose, invading her sense of smell so heavily that it made her wheeze. She hoped it wasn't her own, prayed it wasn't her own.

She didn't stop trembling, even when the man holding her pulled her closer to him. Her head rolled back, and things suddenly grew quiet, eerily so, and her muscles, her entire body, slackened in the arms of her rescuer.

…_**xOx…**_

Lyndis was not doing well, according to Serra. Kent paced back and forth outside of the healer's tent while Florina held a handkerchief—he thought he recognized it as belonging to Sain—to her face to soak up her tears.

He couldn't blame her, couldn't blame her _at all_; he half-wished that he could allow himself that luxury.

He turned on his heel and walked past the healer's tent again.

He would be in there if Serra hadn't deemed his worrying a distraction. He could hardly stand not being in there with her; what if she needed him? His feet turned and he walked past the tent again.

"Oh, Saint Elimine!"

He stopped dead in his tracks, his lower lip held captive by his teeth, his heart pounding mercilessly against his ribcage. The shout of horror from inside the healer's tent did nothing to ease his worry, and he forced himself to breathe, taking in a shuddering gulp of air that hardly seemed to fill his lungs.

The bastard that had hurt her was dead, but the effects of the attack on Lady Lyndis would no doubt last for a long, long time. Frowning, he forced his feet to keep moving. It wasn't as if staring at the brown waterproof fabric of the tent would do him any good, would tell him anything about Lyndis's condition.

All he could think about was the shocked realization on her face when it dawned on her that she was burning, burning, and the way she had fallen to the ground with her hands over her head in a pathetic attempt to protect herself… He shuddered, remembering the expression on her face startlingly well. He had been terrified for her for that endlessly long, treacherous minute that it had taken him to wrestle his horse's heavy blanket out from under the saddle. It had done the job, the fire had been put out just as soon as he could reach her.

But he hadn't been nearly fast enough. He should have run faster. He should have…have…

He continued to pace.

His stomach churned as he recalled the smell of her burned skin and hair, not to mention her clothes. He had seen her red, blistered skin in places where her dress had burned away, and it made him nauseous to think about it again. Somehow, he should have prevented it. She was supposed to be perfectly healthy. Her vassals were supposed to get hurt in her place. He had been _so close_, but not close enough.

She had been walking toward him, he thought. Walking toward him, and then suddenly, fire had spread across her back. He had opened his mouth to shout to her, but no words came out when he needed them. That was when he had grabbed hold of his horse's blanket and pulled, pulled, every prayer he could think to say in his mind.

Finally, Serra popped out of the tent looking tired and weary. She had soot on her face and hands, and her usually wide, happy eyes were somber and almost sad. She ignored Kent, _ignored him_ even though she knew, she _knew_, he was dying inside, needing, needing, _needing_ to know if his Lady Lyndis was okay.

Yes, _his_.

The cleric walked up to Florina, instead, and Kent caught most of their conversation.

"Lady Lyn's clothes aren't any good, so we need you to fly to the last village we were in and get some new ones. Tell Mark and Lord Hector; I know Hector's leg is still healing, but he'll give you the money. Can you do that? You can find someone else to go with you if you'd prefer."

He didn't think he had ever seen Serra speak so…so softly before, and it unnerved him more than he wanted to admit, even to himself.

Florina nodded hesitantly, the handkerchief smearing more tears across her skin, and he saw Sain making his way to her, no doubt ready to offer his assistance should the smallest pegasus knight need it.

Kent tensed as Serra came to stand in front of him. The young girl's shoulders were slumped, slightly. "Pris' and I did the best we could," she told him. "She'll live, but a lot of the damage is irreversible, and…and there's only so much we can do about the pain."

Kent nodded, hardly hearing what she was saying. He just wanted to see her, see her immediately.

"We need your help," she said, walking toward the tent. Stopping right in front of it, she turned to face him again, "Don't let your eyes or your hands wander."

Kent's face flushed in indignation. "Don't be ridiculous!" he snapped, temper flaring. As if he would ever, _ever_, think to do something such as that, something so despicable and low!

Serra merely shrugged at his outburst, "I worked in Ostia; I've seen it all." She walked inside, letting him in afterward, and pointed toward the cot Lyndis was lying on. "We're almost done," she said. "Before we put the salve on, though, I'd rather change the sheets. We don't have hardly any extras because of all the others dripping their blood all over the place, but if you could hold Lady Lyn long enough for us to change out the sheets, that would be helpful."

Priscilla nodded from next to her patient, her hand gently stroking Lyn's hair in a comforting manner. "Normally we wouldn't ask a man," she said quietly, "but I thought it best in this case."

He nodded slowly, carefully, as he walked closer to the woman he loved. The woman he loved who also loved him. Reciprocated love was of the best kind.

He knew what to expect, but nothing could have prepared him for actually seeing it. Angry, red, welted blisters from the heat her skin had been exposed to covered her bare back from across the back of her shoulders downward. The further down his eyes traveled, the spottier the burns were, until finally, at her waist, they disappeared. The back of her neck and arms were flecked with a few patches of burned skin, but…

Priscilla and Serra had cut away the entire top of her dress and had done the same to her shirt. Her belt was tied lower, around her hips instead of her waist, and she was lying on her stomach, her ponytail flipped up beside her to keep her hair from getting in her burns. One of her hands rested in a fist by her mouth, the other laid flat against the sheets.

His heart floundering, he came to stand right next to the cot. Blood stained the sheets in a few places, and he noticed pieces of skin that had doubt been removed by the healers. It made his stomach sick to see it, but he intended to do all in his power to help with what needed done.

"Somehow," Serra said, biting her lip and crossing her arms over her chest, "she has to be picked up without getting hurt. She's out cold, and she will be for a while. We made sure of that."

Priscilla smiled sadly, "It's better that she not be awake yet, anyway."

Frowning, he took hold of Lyn's arms and turned her sideways on the bed, nodding toward Priscilla to take her legs lest they send her falling off the edge of the narrow cot. Crouching down, he slid her forward and managed to get her neck over his shoulder.

Standing carefully, he slid an arm beneath her thighs and created a seat for her to sit on. When he had her secure, the two girls changed out the sheets in only moments. The fact that she wasn't wearing anything to cover her breasts registered in his mind, but he paid it little attention. After all the times she had wrapped her arms around him and pressed her body against his, the feeling wasn't completely new.

When he lowered her back to the bed, though, he caught a glimpse of her exposed chest and immediately looked away, refusing to allow himself to dwell on it.

"I told you not to let your eyes wander," Serra scolded half-heartedly, reaching for a big jar of salve.

Kent didn't reply, but the angry look on his face made the girl toss a pigtail over her shoulders.

"Everyone knows, anyway," she said matter-of-factly.

Kent pulled over a small stool and sat on it, leaning his elbows on the cot as he took Lyndis's hand in his. "We aren't ashamed of it."

Priscilla quietly left to shake out the soiled sheets and take them to the pond nearby for cleaning, and Serra just looked at the redheaded knight, at his hand clasping his liege's, and smiled.

"Of course not," she told him. "There isn't anything to be ashamed of." Her hand dipped into the jar and came out with off-white, creamy salve on it. "You should know something, though," she said a moment later, before she let the cold cream touch Lyn's reddened skin. "This," she gestured down the length of the Sacaen woman's bare back, "is all going to scar."

Kent could only blink, his fingers reflexively squeezing Lyn's hand harder.

With her free hand, Serra settled her fingers by Lyn's waist, at the lighter skin that almost didn't seem burned at all. "The burns were only surface down here, and we were able to reverse some of the damage, but all of this dark red… There isn't anything we can do for it except put this goop on it and hope it doesn't get infected. If it gets infected… Well, let us pray to the good St. Elimine that it doesn't."

With those words, the salve fell from Serra's hand to Lyn's hot skin. The temperature difference made the injured woman squirm, the muscles of her back spasming slightly. The cleric gently spread the off-white cream all across and down the lady of Caelin's back. She didn't forget to spread some across the back of her neck and arms, either, just in case. "I'm sure she has some other damage, too." She spared Kent a glance before turning back to her patient. "And by that I mean, inside."

He didn't understand exactly what she meant until she pointed at Lyn's back, and he followed her finger with his eyes, noticing, though only barely, that she seemed to twitch every now and then. He wanted to put his hand on her back, much the way he had several months back when she had managed to get a splinter of someone's broken sword lodged in her leg. Serra had spoken encouragingly to her as she fished it out, the small, painful thing, but it had hurt terribly; he remembered the tears in her eyes that she wouldn't let fall. He hadn't known how to comfort her, so he had, on a whim, let his hand rest against her back.

He couldn't do that, though, not with her in so much pain, pain that he should have been feeling in her place. She was too…too _good_ of a person to have to hurt. His thumb stroked the side of hers as Serra finished applying the salve.

"It should keep her skin from drying out too much, and keep it from getting infected, but if she starts getting feverish or something, that's not good. Also," she continued, grabbing a roll of bandages from a crate nearby, "when her skin starts to try to heal itself, it's going to itch, and it's going to hurt like, well, a word a sweet, innocent vassal of St. Elimine like myself wouldn't say." She unrolled the bandages—which were just long strips of cloth—and fixed him with a stare. "Help me out, here," she ordered. "But don't you dare look. I don't care what the two of you do behind closed doors or out in the woods, but there will be none of those kinds of thoughts here on my watch."

Kent ignored that comment, merely blinking at her. Maybe if Lyndis wasn't in so much pain, maybe if she wasn't hurt so badly because he hadn't been close enough, then he might have had the good grace to blush at Serra's blunt, if odd, idea of humor.

Moving to kneel on the cot—that seemed to only barely tolerate his weight along with his liege's—he lifted her up by her elbows, making sure to support her head and neck, lest she stretch her already sore skin too much further. Once she was resting against him slightly, Serra wound the bandages around her torso.

Kent stared at a burn mark at the top of her collarbone. It looked like a heart. He couldn't seem to look away, and his finger found a little extra of the off-white cream on the side of her neck and he dabbed it gently onto the little mark; it wouldn't do for it to get infected, would it?

"Oops, I missed that spot." Serra smiled at him and tied off the bandage, waving at him a little to let him know he could set her down. "These bandages should probably be changed at least once, if not twice a day. I don't want them sticking to her skin; if they do, she'll wish she was unconscious when they have to be taken off."

He nodded absently, trying to adjust her on the cot so that she might be at least a little comfortable, considering her condition and the fact that she never, ever slept on her stomach.

"And don't let her turn over in her sleep, either." Stretching, the pink-haired young woman sighed. "I'm sorry I couldn't do more," she said. "I'll leave you two alone for now. I have a few others to tend to, including a certain young man that wants to be as great as Lord Pent but managed to get clipped by a lance. I trust you'll do nothing inappropriate while I'm gone?" She raised an eyebrow before crinkling her nose at him; she was half-teasing. "I'll be back when I'm done patching up the children in this army," she told him, grabbing the crate with bandages and tucking her staff neatly under her arm before exiting.

When he was certain she was gone, he let out a heavy sigh and sank to the stool beside Lyndis's cot. He took her hand in his and brought it to his lips, leaving a feather-light kiss against her skin. Leaning forward, he brushed his lips across her cheek, too.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, though he knew she wouldn't blame him and that there wasn't much else he could have done to keep things from turning out as they had. "I'm sorry that I let this happen to you."

The afternoon turned into evening. Kent stayed with her, not moving at all except to cover her with a blanket and to grab a pair of scissors he had noticed sitting over by a few extra rolls of bandages. He had spent over an hour taking the scissors to her hair, cutting off singed strands before dropping them into an empty basket. He would throw them out later.

She finally stirred sometime in the night, eyelids seeming to refuse to open, quiet sounds leaving her lips. He squeezed her hand with his, and she seemed to settle again, slipping into an uneasy slumber. She tried to turn over often, and he had to stop her and push her back down before she could wake herself up. He was nearly asleep himself when her eyelashes fluttered again and she managed to get them to focus on him.

"Kent…" she whispered, her tongue flicking out in an attempt to wet her now-chapped lips. A ghost of a smile flitted across her face like a moth before a flame, and in the way that a moth is singed, it fell from her face again, replaced by utter confusion. And pain, he could see that clearly in the way her forehead was wrinkled just so and her dark eyes were hazy.

His hands reached out to steady her before she could turn all the way over to face him. "Yes," he breathed. "But don't move, don't move."

She trembled just slightly, "What's… what…?"

Squeezing her hand again, he stroked her knuckles with his free hand and leaned forward. "You… You were burned, Lady Lyndis. Badly."

He could hear her quiet hitches of breath, but she said nothing.

He leaned forward and rubbed his forehead against hers gently, "I was not fast enough in coming to your aid, milady. Forgive me."

His quiet words seemed to make her blink a little, and she gave his hand a squeeze back. Weak as it was, his heart fluttered to feel it. It was one slightly positive thing after a lot of negative, he thought. Releasing her hand from one of his, he took hold of a tin cup Sain had thought to bring earlier in the night; it was half-filled with water, and he held it to her lips, tilting it gradually so that she could drink out of it.

He had only seen her so thirsty once before, in the Nabata desert; in fact, the entire group had been so dehydrated, they had nearly thrown up after drinking too much.

Finally, it was all gone, and she let out a wry chuckle of embarrassment. "You came," she whispered. Then, louder, "I remember…" She tugged on his hand, and he moved closer. "I thought I was going to…" She swallowed, "But I'm…not."

He could only blink at her, his expression almost sad, his brown eyes locked onto her green ones.

"Thank you for coming" she said, so quiet he almost didn't hear her. He knew what she wanted, though; it was obvious from her continued weak tugging on his hand.

Tenderly, he leaned forward and pressed his lips against hers, wiping away some of the water that had spilled down her chin with the fingers of his free hand. He broke off the kiss quickly—as she really wasn't in any kind of condition to continue for very long—and rubbed his nose against hers lightly. "I love you," he said in response to her thanks instead of _you're welcome_ or _I should have been there sooner_.

She hated it when he felt guilty for things that weren't entirely his fault. He knew she'd only point out that _she_ could have been standing closer to _him_, and not just the other way around.

"I love you, too," she sighed, tilting her chin slightly to steal a simple, chaste kiss from him. When she pulled away, she looked dazed and shifted a little from her position on her stomach. "I'm burning," she said slowly, tears rising to her eyes. She blinked at him, her eyelashes fluttering nervously, "I-I'm burning. Why am I burning…?"

He opened his mouth to answer her, but her grip on his hand slackened, and her eyelids slid closed. She had fainted.

…_**xOx…**_

Kent stayed with her through the rest of the night, dozing off and on for short snatches of time before Lyndis would wake him up by moving around or whimpering in her sleep. Late the next morning, Serra and Priscilla asked him to leave so that they could change her bandages out for new ones.

He did the things he needed to do, and then paced outside of the healer's tent. One of the times he passed by, he heard Priscilla's quiet voice and found himself stopping to listen. "Sir Kent will be back any moment," the young woman said.

Then Lyndis's voice, louder and stronger, "I don't want to see him!"

Kent, confused and hurt, took a step back. Blinking furiously, his mind tried to process what he had just heard.

"Don't you dare let him in here!" A moment later, and softer, "I-I refuse to see him. At all."

He took another step back, nearly tripping over Sain who was trying to encourage Florina's pegasus to follow him by dangling a carrot on a stick in front of it.

"What's wrong?" the knight asked, reaching out a hand to steady Kent. When he did so, Huey snatched the carrot up in his teeth and broke it in half with a loud _snap_. "Why aren't you with Lady Lyn?"

"She… She refuses to see me." He looked back toward the tent and bit his lip slightly, forehead crinkled in worry, and perhaps something else.

"That doesn't sound like her at all. She's always hanging around you." He took the other half of the carrot off of the stick and held it out for Huey to take before turning back to Kent. "Maybe she's just a bit shy because she can't wear a shirt, yet."

Kent knew better—Lyndis could be shy, sometimes, but not about that…at least, she never had been before. No, she would have just covered herself with a blanket and let him in the room to talk to her. "Perhaps," he said instead of voicing his actual thoughts.

He retreated as Serra came out of the tent and Sain pulled a carrot from his pocket to tie onto the string again.

Taking shelter in his own tent, he tried to catch up on sleep, but his thoughts refused to let him. Just the night before they had kissed, and had confirmed what he already knew—she loved him. She _still_ loved him. And he still loved her! So what was the problem? Why didn't she want to see him?

Maybe, he thought, maybe she had reconsidered everything. Now that she most likely knew the extent of damage to her, and how badly it would scar, maybe she was angry at him for not protecting her as he was supposed to. His heart aching, he turned onto his side and closed his eyes, trying to will sleep upon him. It refused to come.

If he could trade places with her, he would, in a heartbeat. In _less_ than a heartbeat. He let out a quiet sigh and stayed there on the floor of his tent until sleep finally managed to take him away.

…_**xOx…**_

Lyndis stubbornly refused to tell anyone why she would not see Kent. In fact, she also refused to see Sain. She was afraid that he would find out and would tell his redheaded friend.

When the army began moving again, she had to lie in the back of Merlinus's wagon. When they were attacked, she had to stay there, too, lying still and quiet between bags of potatoes and medical supplies. She hated having to sleep on her stomach, hated having to cower in the back of a wagon because she couldn't hold her own in battle, and she hated feeling like an invalid.

It had been three days, and she hadn't seen even one red hair of Kent's head. It was as if he had vanished. Florina and Wil came to assist her, sometimes, along with Serra and Priscilla. They helped her in the wagon, out of the wagon, onto the cot. She could walk, but it hurt so badly that she thought maybe it was wise to wait until her skin healed more before she attempted it again.

"I don't understand why you won't see him, Lady Lyn," Serra griped, pulling the bandages around her too tight, most likely on purpose. "I didn't even tell him you didn't want to see him; he just stays away. He probably heard what you said."

"I didn't speak that loudly," Lyndis insisted.

"You shouted."

Priscilla nodded. "Sain said yesterday that Sir Kent has not been himself lately, and he is upset that you won't see him, either."

Lyn ignored them both.

The next day, Ninian and Florina both came to see her. Florina sat on the edge of her cot and Ninian sat on the stool.

"H-He looks devastated, Lyn," Florina said quietly. "Why won't you see him, just for a few minutes?"

"He told Sain that he thinks you're mad at him for not taking the blow for you," Ninian added, twirling her hair around her fingers. "But that's not true, is it?"

Florina bit her lip and grabbed Lyn's hand, squeezing it tightly. "You always h-hated it before when he tried to protect you, so I k-know it's something else!"

"You're right," she finally admitted. "That's not it." But she didn't continue, and after a few silent minutes ticked by, Ninian excused herself, leaving her alone with Florina.

"W-What is it, Lyn?"

She wanted to tell someone, she really did. But they would think it was so stupid, so _childish_, and she was far from being a child! Before she had woken up with burned, blistered skin, she had been ready to get married and settle down to have a family.

She had been planning to do all of that with one person.

_Kent._

She cringed at the thought of him and closed her eyes, sighing dejectedly. But that couldn't… She was… He wouldn't…

"L-Lyn? I thought you l-loved him."

The other girl's voice was so timid and soft that most people would have asked her to repeat her words, but Lyndis knew exactly what she had said, and before she could stop herself, she was snapping back defensively.

"I do!"

"T-Then _why_?" There was a long silence, and then she felt the soft touch of Florina's hand on her arm, "I-I think I know."

Clenching her jaw tightly, she refused to say anything, but she could already feel tears building up in her eyes. She could only pray that Florina hadn't noticed them.

They were too obvious not to see, though, and the smaller girl's fingers brushed Lyn's bangs out of her eyes and stroked her cheek, gently. "You love him, and that's…why."

Tears began to fall, and Florina leaned over to give her friend a very awkward, gentle hug.

"Yes," she whispered, a quiet moan making its way out of her throat. "He wouldn't want… I was going to marry him, but… He could do—he could do better than this."

"Than you?" Frowning, the lavender-haired pegasus knight gave Lyn's cheek a mild, painless slap. "Y-You're always so confident. S-Stop feeling sorry for yourself!"

Blinking furiously, Lyn tried to sit up. "Feel sorry for myself?!"

Swallowing nervously, Florina let Lyn's hand go and fisted her hands in her own lap. "Y-Yes!" she finally exclaimed, eyes set with fierce determination. "Sir K-Kent's been worried s-sick about you a-and all you've been d-doing is worry about what you look like!"

Lyn found her temper dissipating as Florina's words sank in.

"H-He doesn't understand why…"

"I'm… I'm disfigured! Wouldn't he rather find someone that he could touch and hold and _look at_ who didn't have discolored, uneven skin?" Biting her lip, the Sacaen woman sank back down on the cot. "Don't you see? He could do better than this."

"A-And after you spent so long reassuring him that you couldn't do better than him. Y-You're breaking his heart, Lyndis."

And with that, Florina left without a sound.

…_**xOx…**_

The pegasus knight went straight to Sain, who went to Kent, who found everything a little hard to believe…though in no way did he claim Sain's words to be false.

"You see, she doesn't hate you," Sain said. "She's not even mad at you. She's just self-conscious. A lot of women are."

"But Lady Lyndis never was," he mumbled.

Sain patted him on the back. "But now her back is heading toward becoming one big scar, and her self-esteem has taken a critical blow."

"How could I do better than her, Sain?" he asked, still confused. "How can a man do better than the woman he loves and wants to spend the rest of his life with?"

Sain shook his head. "He can't."

Kent thought hard of what he could do to change things, to convince Lyndis that it didn't matter if she was left with a scar or not. She was still herself, was she not? He had kissed her, and it hadn't been different. She told him she loved him, and that hadn't been different.

"I know just the thing!" Sain suddenly shouted, getting odd looks from several people in the army. He took off running and came back a few minutes later, dragging a disgruntled Heath behind him. "Now," he said, shoving the younger man forward, "tell him what you told me."

"But _why?_"

"Just do it!"

Heath shook his head, still clearly confused, but shrugged and turned to Kent, "I told him that Commander Vaida was beautiful, that's all." Heath looked around a little bit, "But don't tell her that. She would probably think I was trying to flatter her."

"You see!" the sandy-haired knight crowed triumphantly. "Dame Vaida wears her scar proudly! Even though she could cover some of it up, she doesn't even bother. Yet Heath, here, thinks she's beautiful! Which I can't disagree with!"

Heath opened his mouth in warning, but it was too late.

"You! Bloody moppets! What are you doing, standing around gabbing? Heath!"

"Yes, Commander?" He immediately stood at attention, a stupid grin on his face that made Kent…wonder…

When he thought of it, he had heard the younger man say many good things about his commander, before…

"What are these gaping pelicans doing with you?"

Heath frowned, "I'm…not sure, Commander Vaida."

She whirled around and faced Sain, who grinned at her widely. Warily, she pointed a finger at him, "Explain yourselves. I heard your foolish words of only a moment before!"

"Oh!" Sain brightened. "We were discussing Lady Lyndis's situation."

"Get to the point! I don't have time to lollygag around!"

Sain cringed slightly. "She seems to be under the impression that the rather…spectacular scar she has recently acquired will keep my boon companion here—" he pointed at Kent, "—from continuing to love her." He shrugged helplessly. "I thought that as a woman with a rather impressive scar, you might be able to talk some sense into her?"

Vaida, Heath, and Kent all gaped at him.

Vaida stalked off, Heath in tow.

…_**xOx…**_

Lyndis was half-asleep when the blanket draped carefully over her was suddenly ripped away, startling her completely awake. She tried to turn over to see who it was, but could only manage to get halfway there, her movement sending a jolt of pain through her. One of her hands immediately went to her chest to provide some measure of modesty.

Vaida stood there, her customary glare on her face, her hands fisted on her hips as she stared at Lyn's bare back and the skin there that was just starting to heal. Her gaze shifted to Lyn's own.

She couldn't help but look at the scar that ran down the older woman's body.

The blonde wyvern-rider spat on the ground, and Lyn noticed Heath standing just behind her, pride in his eyes. He always looked like that around his commander, she thought absently.

"Tch," Vaida said, leaning in close to the small Sacaen woman. "It. Isn't. That. Bad. And if your miniature teapots snatch Heath away from his training _one more time_, I swear to every deity out there that they _will_ regret it."

And with that, she stormed out, Heath waving merrily at her before he followed.

…_**xOx…**_

Not even an hour after Vaida left, Priscilla was standing in front of Kent with an encouraging smile on her face. "Lady Lyndis instructed me to come and get you."

Sain grinned and shoved Kent in the direction of the healer's tent, where Lyndis still stayed so that they could keep an eye on her in the evening and change her bandages in the places she still needed them.

He made his way there, noticing that Sain stayed behind to chat with the redheaded healer, but when he made it to the flap of the tent, he hesitated for a long time before opening it.

Once inside, his eyes slowly adjusted to the dimness and he made his way over to Lyn. She was lying on her stomach, her head pillowed on her arms, her back only covered partially with a blanket. Bandages were wrapped around the backs of her shoulders still, but the rest of her skin was exposed.

Silently, he sat on the stool next to her cot.

She glanced over at him and smiled; she didn't really look happy to see him. She looked… No, she looked almost ashamed.

"Kent… I—"

He cut her off by leaning forward and touching one of her elbows. "I know," he muttered, his fingers moving to push her bangs out of her eyes.

She sighed, perhaps in relief, perhaps because of something else. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have…"

He smiled just a little. "I don't want anyone else, Lyndis."

His words seemed to almost shock her; she fell completely silent and chewed on her lower lip for a moment. "I thought that maybe…"

His hand slid to the curve of her cheek and rested there. "You let Lady Lyndis do the thinking instead of Lyndis," he said quietly. "I should have prevented this from happening, but I couldn't. If I had, though…" He tilted her chin up toward him, "If I had received the same wound, the same scar…would you have changed your mind about loving me because someone without a scar might be out there?"

"N-No, of course not." She was trembling, and drew in a shaky breath. "Florina was right. I spent so much time reprimanding you for worrying about not being good enough that I didn't realize when I was doing almost the exact same thing."

"Mm," he mumbled, pressing the tip of his nose against hers. "You're still too good for me."

She blew air into his face, a quick, fast rush of it, and crinkled her nose in mock annoyance. "That isn't true," she insisted, tilting her head to press her lips against his. When she pulled away slightly, she slowly pulled herself to sit on her knees and immediately wrapped her arms around him.

He was a little shocked at her action because she wasn't completely bandaged, and her breasts were _most definitely_ not covered, but she folded neatly into his arms and with the utmost caution, he settled his hands on her lower back where the burns were spotty and mostly healed, and the blanket that was still there covered some of her skin.

"I love you, Kent," she whispered, her breath tickling his ear and making him shiver—an action that made her smile against the skin of his neck.

Lightly, he ran his hands up and down her back, only a few inches, the best he could manage considering the situation and her injury. "I love you, too, Lyndis." Then, a moment later, "When you can fight again, though, I…" He swallowed, "I would rather you didn't leave my side."

She pressed her lips against his neck and then sighed, her eyelids closing as she relaxed against him, "I won't want to."

* * *

…_**xOx…**_

**Author Notes:**

Lame, corny endings for the win. I swear, this sounded better in my head before I actually tried to write it. But Vaida was fun. I really wanted to include her.

More notes:

1) Kent and Lyndis are already together, have confessed, and are "courting". By that I mean, they're doing the best job of courting they can do while traveling in an army. But they are romantically involved before this starts.

2) Sain and Huey. Sain's trying to win Florina over through her pegasus, haha.

3) Lyndis refusing to see Kent. Okay, first, there's a song by Billy Joel, "Tell Her About It", and some lyrics go, _when you love someone, you're always insecure_. How true is that? Very. But for Lyndis, it goes deeper than this. First of all, a scar isn't necessarily a bad thing except that it's ugly and it's proof that she failed badly at doing something she prides herself on…and that's protecting herself.

Lyndis is proud, but I don't think she's above feeling down on herself. (See her supports with Eliwood.) Something that screws with you and is permanent, though, would be embarrassing and hard to accept. She feels ugly, and it's not her fault. Any woman in her place would feel that way. I'm sure Vaida, as tough and awesome as she is, took some time to come to terms with her own scar. At any rate, Lyn is refusing to see Kent because she is so down on herself. As if Kent wouldn't love her anymore for something like that! But the fear is still there, and it's very real to her.

4) Florina. Wow, she's forceful! I think Florina is stronger than people depict her, sometimes. Her accusation of Lyn feeling sorry for herself isn't entirely true—Lyn isn't exactly feeling sorry for herself so much as she's depressed and feels unattractive, now. But Florina wants Lyn to know that it's not an excuse to hurt Kent, who is genuinely worried and confused about why the woman he loves won't see him.

5) Heath. Heath thinks Vaida is beautiful, and she is. I really believe that she is. I think that knowing this, Sain might really consider dragging the poor man over.

6) Miniature teapots. Sorry, I couldn't help it. See her supports with Wallace.

7) The ending. Rushed. I'm sorry. Kent won't let her try and be down on herself because he loves her and understands her fear. I hope his words made sense and her reaction, too, of course.

Thanks for reading! Feedback is much appreciated.

_Up Next: "Fires of Hope"  
_Theme #43: You've/I've Got a Long Way To Go Before You're/I'm That Good!


	32. Fires of Hope: Erk, Nino

**Fires of Hope  
By: Manna

* * *

  
**

…_**xOx…**_

The Fire Emblem 100 Challenge!**  
Theme #43: You've/I've Got a Long Way To Go Before You're/I'm That Good!  
Starring: Erk, Nino****  
Genre: Friendship**  
**Warnings: **_**Rated K+

* * *

  
**_

…_**xOx…**_

It was the middle of the night, but one small, tiny sound forced his mind to claw its way out of the deep, dark pit called sleep.

Peeling his eyes open slowly, Erk sat up and blinked at the black sky and the shadows that played off of the sides of Merlinus's wagon thanks to the crackling fire in the middle of the camp. His gaze stopped on the form of a small girl, head bent over a tome, a sharp stick in her left hand.

It was all so curious, he decided, that Nino would be awake at such a late hour, and even though he knew she would be safe—Marcus, Oswin, and Wallace had the midnight watch, after all—he thought that perhaps he ought to speak to her to make up for his being so…

So _stupid_, he chided himself. He was so terrible at talking to girls—all girls. Priscilla, Lady Lyn, Serra… No, he couldn't talk to any of them without coming off sounding like a fool. Not even a lovestruck fool—no, just an idiot.

For all that he had read and studied and learned…he couldn't say that he had ever been taught much of anything in the department of women. He supposed that it was something he would have to learn on his own, and he had slowly been working on that.

With some measure of hesitation, he made his way to the fire and crouched down beside the short-haired mage. "Nino," he said quietly.

Her eyes flew open and she blinked at him in surprise. "Oh, Erk!" she whispered excitedly. "This—is this what I think it is—I mean, does it say what I think it says?"

She pointed to a small picture in the corner of the third page of her book. Ink lines, in varying breadth, portrayed a fire—just like the one in front of her. Thin lines marked the tips of the flames, thick denoted the base of the fire, where the blaze met the wood.

One of her long, thin fingers settled on the word below the picture, "Does this say _fire_, do you think?"

"It isn't healthy to read in the dark," he scolded half-heartedly, squinting and leaning closer to read the word. "But yes, that says _fire_."

She grinned widely and hugged the worn book to her chest, a relieved, happy sigh working its way out from the back of her throat. "That's wonderful!" Then, the book was back in her hand. "Now I just have to write it…"

The stick wobbled in her left hand as she tried to read and write the word at the same time.

Erk rubbed at his eyes. Something about the young girl next to him reminded him of…himself. Yes, all those days and nights in his room that he had spent studying and studying and _studying_.

"I want to learn to write this word so I can show Jaffar." Then she leaned forward and managed to write the letter _F_. It was sloppy, crooked, and looked only half-legible, but it was there, etched into the dirt by the fire pit. "And then I can tell Canas that I learned a new word!"

She seemed intent on watching what she was doing, and before too long, the letter _i_ had joined the _F_.

Beaming, she started on the next letter and Erk shifted his position before his legs decided to cramp up. Nino was terribly fascinating. And humble, too. No matter how many times he tried to compliment her on her impressive abilities, she shook her head and said she really wasn't that good.

_No_, he thought to himself as he watched her shakily write the last letter in the dirt, _you are_.

She could cast spells without having to even see the words! No, simple memorization was all that was required for her to learn. He could only dream of being such an amazing mage, himself. Even Lord Pent, his teacher and the Mage General of Etruria, could not cast after hearing a spell chanted only a few times. It had taken him years of hard work to hone his skills.

Nino could hear it several times and then she would practice it for a long time… Then, suddenly, she could use it. Maybe there was more to it than her just being a natural. There was no doubt in his mind that she was a veritable _genius_. And she was so very eager to learn more. He wondered, though, if learning to read would dampen her abilities or enhance them.

Finally, she sat back and stared at her lopsided, shaky word and whispered, "Fire…" Then she tucked her legs beneath her and cocked her head to the side. "I think this one won't be hard to memorize. If I write it a few more times…"

He could only nod.

The thing was, she couldn't even spell _fire_, but she could quite literally make it. She could do it without books, without even being _taught_.

"You should get some sleep," Nino said, sparing him a concerned look before she dug her stick into the ground to rewrite the word.

"You…ah, too," he managed, standing back up. As an afterthought, he patted the top of her head and headed off to go back to sleep, his cheeks flaming.

He still couldn't talk to girls.

But at least he could listen.

The next morning, the camp awoke to the sounds of morning. Birds singing, lances clattering against one another, the shifting of armor being strapped back into place…

And when Erk stretched and wandered over toward the fire, he noticed two things.

First of all, Nino, fast asleep with her head pillowed on her arms, and second, the word _fire_ written over and over and over again around the fire pit. People stood around the smoldering embers, looking down at Nino with amusement or curiosity.

Lowen stood there with his cooking supplies, hesitant to step and mar the words that had been written, and Bartre looked confused as he bent down to stare at the strange, crooked letters.

Finally, Lyndis stepped forward and knelt beside Nino. After some effort, she managed to scoop the small girl up before walking off to place her in her own bedroll. He tagged along after scooping up the stick the younger mage had used the night before, and watched the lady of Caelin as she brushed Nino's bangs out of her eyes before covering her up.

When she left, sparing him a smile and a _Good morning_, he crouched down next to the sleeping girl and blinked. She really was a lot like him, he told himself, and resolved to remember a book that he had been given years ago that would do her more good than it would him.

But that would have to happen later. Until then, though, maybe he could teach her something else… Like how to spell her name.

* * *

…_**xOx…**_

**Author Notes:**

This was just…a little idea I had. Nino's so smart, and such a hard-working girl, isn't she? Not to mention she's adorable! I always thought she might have long fingers…even though she's small. I don't know.

_Up Next:__ "Crazy Little Thing"_  
Theme #46: It Doesn't Stop


	33. Crazy Little Thing: Bartre, Karla

**Crazy Little Thing  
By: Manna

* * *

**

…_**xOx…**_

The Fire Emblem 100 Challenge!**  
Theme #46: It Doesn't Stop  
Starring: Bartre, Karla****  
Genre: Romance, Humor**  
**Warnings: **_**Rated K+

* * *

**_

…_**xOx…**_

Love was a strange thing. Really, it didn't make any sense, and it taunted him constantly. In fact, it even made him question himself.

He didn't want to duel against Karla any longer.

Why? He didn't know. He almost didn't even care.

When they fought side by side, he found himself enjoying simply watching her. Her strength and speed were admirable, and he didn't want to fight her so much as he wanted to…to…

Augh! His head hurt just thinking about it! Well, it wasn't fair—that's what. Love did screwy things to your head and made strong men weak! Look at Dorcas, after all, he told himself. The strongest axeman alive had resorted to sketching flowers and trees with charcoal!

D-Dammit, just the thought made him want to ask his comrade to draw Karla for him. But he resisted, even though it hurt his head. He wasn't sure why he wanted a picture of Karla. Oh, right. She was beautiful, not to mention smart and a great fighter.

She was constantly training so as to not disappoint him the next time they dueled one another.

A drawing of her would be something he would treasure forever… Maybe Dorcas would draw her with her long hair flying behind her, her body twisted as her sword sliced through the air…

No, no, wait! No.

He didn't have time to daydream! He had to fight! He had to fight to become stronger, always stronger! It was important, critical even! If he became weak, he would find himself a liability to the army!

With new resolve, he let loose, swinging his axe as hard as he could. _Thud!_

There, firewood. He grinned proudly and slung the weapon back over his shoulder before filling his arms with the giant pile of wood he had made. Teetering dangerously, he made his way back to the camp.

Ah, wood. Wood would be used for fire, and that meant warmth. Maybe he could enjoy the warmth. With Karla.

No, no, no!

He shook his head and dropped the wood next to the giant fire used for cooking.

His head was pounding. Or maybe it wasn't his head?

Argghhh!

After his especially epic battle against the tree, he needed some food. Food would make his head feel better, right? Right! So he marched over, grabbed a bowl of gruel, and plopped down on the nearest seat he could find. A log.

No matter that there was an ant on it. Ants were strong warriors, but no match for him! With a flick of his finger, the little creature went soaring into the air and off of his new chair.

"Bartre."

Ah, his head hurt worse!

"Karla."

The pounding seemed to make his entire body hurt. Oh, why him? Why him?

"I have continued to train so that I do not betray your expectations of me." She gave him the smallest, tiniest, ittiest-bittiest little smile.

"Ah…" She started to walk away, but something in him told him to stop her. He didn't know why, "Wait!"

"Hm? What is it? Do you wish to fight now?"

He looked down at his bowl of thick soup and then back at the woman standing in front of him with her own bowl in her hands. He patted the log next to him. "No," he said. "The best warriors keep their strength up by eating properly!"

She raised an eyebrow but that tiny smile grew a little more. "Of course," she said, and took a seat next to him.

The food did absolutely nothing to keep his head from hurting. But was it really his head? He wasn't so sure anymore… Arggggh! Stupid love! It just didn't make any sense, and it wouldn't leave him alone, not even for a _second_!

And it made him think too much!

* * *

…_**xOx…**_

**Author Notes:**

Bartre is so cute in his own way, haha. Karla's awesome. This was fun to write. I have nothing else to say. Feedback would be much appreciated.

_Up Next: __"Sweet Like Sugar"_  
Theme #56: Beloved One (Not a Lover)


	34. Sweet Like Sugar: Raymond, Priscilla

**Sweet Like Sugar****  
By: Manna

* * *

**

…_**xOx…**_

The Fire Emblem 100 Challenge!**  
Theme #56: Beloved One (Not a lover)  
Starring: Priscilla, Raymond****  
Genre: Family, Angst**  
**Warnings: **_**Rated K+

* * *

**_

…_**xOx…**_

Her fingertips skim the surface of the band on her finger, touching the metal lightly, gently. She remembers the tears that had fallen and the calloused fingers of her brother as he tried to reassure her that someday—someday—she'd marry a prince.

_A prince?_ she had asked incredulously as he used his dirty shirt to wipe away the last of her tears.

_Yeah, a prince._ He took her hand and hauled her to her feet. _One that'll give you whatever you want whenever you want it. If he doesn't, I'll kill him for you!_

They had been scolded for running off to play. Her health had been poor, and she had been told that she had to stay indoors where the air would be cleaner, not clogged with the things that caused her chest to ache and her head to hurt.

_No, no_, she would insist, tugging weakly against the hands of her mother or her father or even her nanny. _No, I want to go outside!_

Raymond was her only friend there at the magnificent stone mansion that was the Cornwell estate. He paid her attention, dried her tears, told her stories…

Sighing, Priscilla looks at the old ring that still sits on her finger after more than ten years. It's childish and so, so _silly_, but she's afraid of taking it off. It helps her remember the small things that she might forget otherwise, that she's terrified of forgetting because they mean so very much to her.

It's really all she has of him, now.

One time, she thinks, he took her outside and put her on the saddle of a little tiny horse. _It's just a baby!_ she had exclaimed, clapping her hands joyously. _A tiny little baby!_

Raymond hadn't corrected her. _It's for you,_ he told her instead, tugging on the reins. She squealed and held tight to the delicate creature's neck.

Another sigh, another smile. She had kissed that horse's neck and the tip of its velvety nose.

That had been the last time she saw that horse. It was probably long dead or so old she would never be able to recognize the gleaming, soft white fur or the proud gait it had trotted with.

Patting the neck of her faithful, brown mare, she shakes her head. She shouldn't daydream in the middle of battle, she tells herself, but…

But oh, she misses him even after all of the years that have gone by. She doesn't need to marry him anymore like her little five-year-old self had wanted, to marry the man she cared about the most. No, she can wait for someone else, a prince, a man who loves her and will never, ever leave her side.

But she needs to see him again, needs to know that he still cares; does he think about her, wonder about her, worry about her?

The corridor of Caelin's basement is long and dark, but Lady Lyndis and her two knights have taken the lead. She hurries to catch up in case they need her.

But before she can follow the Sacaen noblewoman down the side hall that no doubt leads to cells of imprisoned men, she finds herself pulling back on the reins in her hand, her mare's hooves digging into the cobblestones.

What was…?

She sees it again. A vivid, very distinct shade of red she remembered from her childhood. Her fingers stroke the metal of her ring again before she allows her breath to hitch in the back of her throat in surprise.

It's _him_. It's—

It's…

He's standing next to her, now. It is he, it's Raymond, Raymond of Cornwell, but his eyes, the stern way his forehead is set in, the down-turned lips…

He has changed, she thinks. Time has warped him, but that's okay; time has changed her, too. Her heart is pounding, hoping, and she opens her mouth, speaks his name as if nothing has ever changed between them, as if she's still that little girl on the miniature horse that looks just like his white gelding, as if he's going to help her down and tell her the horse's name—_Sugar, because she's sweet, like you are_—and they're going to walk away together, his hand on the hilt of his practice sword just in case any hooligans dare to attack pretty little Priscilla—_Don't worry, I'll save you_. _Nobody messes with my little sister!_

Her heart continues to pound anxiously as she waits, waits to see if he knows this name that she speaks, because what are the chances? What are the chances of this man actually being the same one? This man with the frown and the tiny wrinkles in his forehead… How could he be the same as the chubby-cheeked Raymond who had wielded a sword in her defense and hugged her, telling her it was okay that she couldn't go outside because _he_ could stay inside?

But oh, oh! Oh…

"Priscilla, we need you immediately! Someone's been injured!" Lord Eliwood stands beside her, and his words shake her out of her reverie.

No, no…it's not Raymond, it's not. She nods, kicking her horse lightly so that it follows the Pheraen nobleman as she clutches her right hand with its old, tarnished silver band on the ring finger, to her chest.

Maybe…maybe next time, she thinks.

* * *

…_**xOx…**_

**Author Notes:**

Yeah, this was lame. Sorry. I fail at writing Priscilla. Also, the poor girl doesn't know Raymond's pretty much right around the corner. And the finger her ring is on? Her right ring finger. (Note: not left, where she would wear a wedding band/engagement ring.) Widows and widowers often are known, if they are not done grieving for their lost spouse, to move their wedding band to their right ring finger instead, to show this fact. (A little-known fact, it seems.)

_Up Next:__ "Lord of the Castle"_  
Theme #1: Lord (as in, the class)


	35. Lord of the Castle: Hector, Florina

**Lord of the Castle****  
By: Manna

* * *

**

…_**xOx…**_

The Fire Emblem 100 Challenge!**  
Theme #1: Lord (as in, the class)  
Starring: Hector, Florina, Lilina****  
Genre: Family, Angst**  
**Warnings: **_**Rated K+

* * *

**_

…_**xOx…**_

Now he understands all of the things he couldn't understand before.

He can remember, years ago, wondering why his parents were scarcely around, why he had a nanny and then Oswin to watch over him, why he and Uther were not closer. Lyn never could understand the distance between them; maybe that was why he hadn't cried at the man's death, and still didn't so much as flinch when he thought of him. He had, in all honestly, hardly known his own brother at all.

And now it's happening to him.

"Father?" A tiny hand rests on the edge of his desk, and he sighs, heavily.

"Florina, _please_."

He doesn't even look up, but he knows she's there, and within a moment, Lilina is safe in her arms, head tucked close to the petite woman's shoulder. "Hector," she says softly, "she just misses you…"

"I know, Florina, okay? I _know_. But I'm busy."

"You've been busy," she whispers. "You've been busy for a long, long time." Then she leaves him alone.

He sits quietly, staring out of the window, but he's got work to do, so he returns to it. A selfish side of him wishes that Uther hadn't died; the man had always been good with people, good with paperwork, good with negotiations and work. Hector had never, ever wanted to be a marquess.

Now he is, though, and he shoulders all of the responsibility that comes along with it. He regrets, perhaps more than anything, leaving his brother to do everything alone, because now he understands how hard it must have been for him.

It's late when he finally makes his way to his bedroom. He changes clothes quietly, trying not to wake his wife; she has been looking worse as the days drag on, and he wonders if she is sick, if something is ailing her that she's not telling him about.

As he settles in next to her, her eyelashes flutter, and she turns over, resting her head against his chest. "I'm sorry about earlier," she murmurs. "I know you work hard…"

"It's okay," he replies, letting his fingers run through her soft, long hair.

Florina pulls away, taking something off of her nightstand. She looks at it, a fond, faraway expression in her eyes before she hands it to her husband. "Lilina made this for you; she tried to give it to you earlier, but…"

Leaning over, he holds it up to the light of the candle next to him. In charcoal, on white parchment, are three little scribbles. He doesn't even need to ask what it is; he already knows.

Silently, he holds the paper to his chest, his eyes not quite watery, but as close as he thinks they'll ever get.

"I'll thank her in the morning, and we'll go somewhere, just the three of us, for the afternoon."

* * *

…_**xOx…**_

**Author Notes:**

The life of the lord of a castle is very, very busy, and they spend a lot of time away from home. It's sad, but quite true. At any rate, I'm sure Hector wouldn't intend to ignore his family; it's just how things were, then, and it's not something he'd want, certainly.

_Up Next__: "A Conspiracy"_  
Theme #26: Triangle Attack!


	36. A Conspiracy: Kent, Lyn, SainSerraFarina

**A Conspiracy****  
By: Manna

* * *

**

…_**xOx…**_

The Fire Emblem 100 Challenge!**  
Theme #26: Triangle Attack!  
Starring: Kent, Lyndis, Sain, Farina, Serra****  
Genre: Romance, Humor**  
**Warnings: **_**Rated T

* * *

**_

…_**xOx…**_

"It's about time someone conspired against him instead of me."

Farina's loud, determined, and altogether obnoxious voice made Sain grin. Glee was written all over his face as he clapped his hands together, once, words spilling out of his mouth faster than water from the edge of a cliff, "I absolutely agree, I do! He's had this coming for a long, long time, you know. And you, my feisty Farina, do not—"

Her elbow in his side silenced him effectively, "Shut it, Sain. Flattery may get you places with some of the other girls, but certainly not with me. Now, I've heard that Serra is—"

"Oh, Serra, a delightful blossom among the—!"

"—willing to help us out," the young pegasus knight finished, giving her blue eyes a roll and her hair a toss at her companion's inability to concentrate. "Now, pay attention! If this plan succeeds, then you can work with Fiora—though your reasoning for wanting such a thing escapes me at the moment—Kent can work with Lady Lyn, and I…I can work with Lord Hector!"

"Oh? Lord Hector? Why would you want to work with _him_?"

"Because he's rich, and handsome, and more importantly, I have reason to believe that he is trying to lower my wages—_again_! I will not stand for that!"

Wisely, the sandy-haired cavalier nodded, "It sounds like a conspiracy."

"Oh," she sighed, licking her lips a little. "Maybe. Speaking of conspiracies, shut up and listen…"

…_**xOx…**_

Kent happened to like the early hours of the morning. Years of training meant years of getting up just as or sometimes before the sun peeked over the horizon. While he did enjoy sleeping in on occasion—though those days were very rare, indeed—he oftentimes found himself watching the eastern sky as light splashed across the surface of the earth.

There was something else he liked to do at daybreak, and that was watch Lady Lyndis. It was shameful of him to admit to such a thing, but what was worse, the fact that he did it, or the fact that he did it while wondering if it was wrong? He wasn't hurting anyone or anything, and his mind never wandered any further than dwelling on what it might be like to wake up with her next to him. It was innocent, but did that make it right?

As he patted his mare's neck and rubbed her velvety nose, his eyes were focused not on his horse, but on his liege.

The army was going to march, again, and that meant another endless day of plodding along on horseback was ahead of them. Lady Lyndis would, no doubt, prefer to be one of the first awake, but…

She needed all the sleep that she could get. He was certain of that fact, if he was certain of anything pertaining to her at all. He was also sure that the affection he felt for her had long ago turned into love, and the chance of it affecting his judgment concerning her was…fairly high. But she did need rest. It wouldn't do _at all_ for her to get up early, march all day, and go to sleep late at night. No, because she would wear out, and then she would become a liability, not only to herself, but also to the army…not that he would dare call her a liability at all, because she certainly wasn't! She was exceptional with a sword, but there was always that chance, and—

He was only wordy in his head.

He sighed as his steed went back to cropping at the grass near his feet, and he started to pull on his armor; he buckled and cinched and tightened straps, but his mind—and his gaze—were focused elsewhere.

He'd put on and pulled off his armor a million times. He hadn't had as many opportunities to watch Lady Lyndis in repose.

His favorite part of the day was when the sunlight trickled across the camp, inch-by-inch, foot-by-foot, yard-by-yard. He could watch it creep across the grass, or the stone walls of a fortress if that happened to be where they were staying; it didn't matter where they were, because the very instant that light fell across his lady's face, she would stir, carefully, before slowly awakening.

First, she would screw her eyes shut as tight as she could against the invasion, twisting her head away from it. Then, she would take a deep, deep breath. Slowly, she would exhale, and only a minute later, her eyes would struggle to open.

As expected, the moment the morning sun fell across Lady Lyndis's relaxed features, she squeezed her eyes shut, turned her head, took and let out a deep breath, and slowly stirred, eyelashes fluttering against her cheeks as she tried to open her eyes.

Oh, and there they were… Green, a deep, dark shade of it, similar to the color of her hair, but also different. He sighed and looked away as she sat up. She deserved to know just how beautiful she was; he knew that she had absolutely no idea.

It was too bad that it would be completely out of line for him to say anything to her.

As she rubbed at her eyes and looked around her, he busied himself with attaching his sword and sheath to his belt, pretending as if he had not noticed that she was awake.

"Kent," she finally called; he had expected as much from her.

"Good morning, milady." His head turned, and he gave her a hint of a smile, "Is there something I can help you with?"

Her gaze was unyielding. "It's been morning for at least an hour." Her tone was accusing, but also gentle, perhaps a little sleepy. "Why didn't you wake me?"

"Ah…" He forced himself to keep looking at her, rather than look away as he usually did when she chastised him, however playful or serious she might mean it. "Others are still sleeping, and I thought that—" he did look away, then, eyes on his sword instead of his liege, "—Lady Lyndis might need her rest."

She paused, looking thoughtful. "Thank you for your thoughtfulness, Kent, but next time, please wake me up."

"Of course." But both of them knew that he wouldn't.

…_**xOx…**_

Serra liked to think that she had a real knack for people. Maybe it was the way she had grown up—starving in an abbey waiting for her parents to come for her—or maybe it was just a talent she had been born with, but the young woman understood others. If anybody could read emotion on someone's face? It was her.

Sometimes she kept knowledge to herself, and other times, she made certain to spread it around; anything that she might mention to Rebecca or Priscilla or even Matthew tended to engulf the mouths of the people in the camp like a wildfire raging through a dry forest.

She knew that Hector, for all Farina's paranoia about his attempts to lower her pay, actually cared about the mercenary, and wanted to look out for her. If it wasn't obvious by the way he hovered around her at every opportunity, it was just as clear in his eyes. That, of course, was information she intended to save for later. Who knew when it would come in handy?

It was no secret, at least to Serra (or Wil, or Florina, or Sain, or…well, _anyone, really_) that Kent had what some liked to call a _thing_ for Lady Lyndis.

Serra hadn't always been an early riser, but living in an abbey where food was sometimes scarce taught her to always be one of the first—if not the very first—awake. The early bird gets the worm—er, the mush—and all that.

And early that morning, Serra had been awake. The fact that Kent held some measure of affection for his lady liege was only made more obvious by the way he watched her while she slept.

Personally, the cleric thought it was kind of romantic, in a creepy sort of way. She wasn't sure how she would feel if someone watched her while she tried to sleep. In fact, if she knew they were watching her, she doubted she'd get any sleep at all.

At any rate, she knew something that nobody else did.

And that was that Lady Lyn liked Kent.

It was puzzling to her—after all, Lords Hector and Eliwood had _money_ at least, going for them—but the fact remained, and she had determined that… if Lyn stopped working with Hector, and instead worked with Kent, then Farina would be required to work with either Fiora or with Hector. If she worked with Hector, then the big oaf would tell Matthew to leave him alone and stop stalking him—since he took some kind of pleasure in listening to Hector and Lyn argue—and that meant that the thief would be given the opportunity to work with a beautiful, young cleric, obviously herself. (She was saving him from a future of misfortune, after all.)

Fiora, of course, would be all alone, so Sain could make a (probably futile) attempt to woo her.

She had it all figured out.

The only problem that stood in the way of all of them, though, was getting Kent to actually say something to Lady Lyndis. He was a little shy and backward, but if he would just say something about how he felt—anything!—then everything would end happily for everyone! Lyndis would accept his feelings, and the others—herself included, obviously—would find more suitable people to work with.

Mark be damned, the man did not know who to have work with whom. (Seriously, why did she have to work with _Fiora_ of all people? And why did Sain have to shadow Heath and Vaida? And Lyndis and Hector, always arguing and never agreeing on anything but…starting another argument! And then Farina, poor dear, having to work with Kent all the time, which was almost like her having to work with Fiora, except perhaps a bit better because Kent was a man.)

Then again, maybe it was worse.

Ah, but it didn't matter. She would have everything settled in no time. She just had to find a way to make Kent open that mouth of his to speak.

…_**xOx…**_

Lyn was having a wonderful day. Well, as wonderful as it could get considering that she was in an army, she was supposed to be a noblewoman—_hah!_—and in the event of a skirmish, Mark thought she ought to fight next to Hector.

Hector, who swung his axe around like a madman.

She had argued with him and argued with him and—damn it all!—she was tired of arguing! She even thought her throat was beginning to hurt from it all. While Mark was a good man, if also a bit confused and forgetful, she often questioned his judgment when it came to her working with a big oaf.

"I have to constantly jump out of the way of that axe of yours!" she said rather scathingly, crossing her arms over her chest as she glared at him. It was just another day of trying to reason with a numbskull.

"Well, if you'd stay out of my way you wouldn't have to jump so much!"

"Maybe you ought to watch where you swing that thing!"

"Maybe you should just shut up; at least I'm getting the job done!"

"Now if only you'd just do it _right_!"

"Oh, _right_, like you did when you ended up with a sword in your gut? I had to carry you off of the battlefield! How's that for doing things _right_?"

"That was a month ago, and you carried me over your shoulder like a sack of potatoes!"

"You weighed _more_ than a sack of potatoes, Lyn! And you bled all over my clothes, too!"

"I'll have you know that the only reason I bled all over your clothes like that was because—"

"—You did things right… _right_?"

"No, you idiot! Because you kept scraping my stomach all over your armor! Of course it bled! I had metal sticking in an open wound!"

"It bled profusely!"

"Well, if you didn't want to save me, you should have just left me there!"

Huffing, she stormed away, eager to find someone else to walk with. All in all, it was a pretty decent day. She muttered all kinds of curses under her breath before she finally found someone sane to talk to.

Well, maybe not. Eliwood was busy whispering sweet nothings into Ninian's ear—which was admittedly sweet, but also a little weird—so Lyn found herself continuing on her way, pausing once to wave up at Florina. Doing so nearly got her trampled by Wil, though, who was riding Rath's horse. The incident got a lot of attention, most likely because everyone was bored. (Admittedly, there wasn't much to look at while marching for days on end.)

She noticed Sain give Kent's horse a slap on the hindquarters, and the animal leapt forward a few paces, also nearly trampling her, especially considering that she was avoiding being sideswiped by Hyperion's tail, and also being beaten in the face with Murphy's wing. It was almost like a really terrible dance, and it ended as badly as one, too, with her sprawled out on the ground and half the army staring. The other half was too busy laughing—_stupid Hector_—to bother to even find out if she was okay!

Well of _course_ she was okay, but she stayed there for a moment, slightly dazed and even more confused. A moment might have actually been closer to two minutes, though, and in the eyes of at least one person she knew, that meant she was _gravely injured_ and needed _immediate attention_. Luckily, though, Kent was too busy calming his horse down to come to her immediate aid.

"Ahh, Lady Lyndis, I'm so sorry! I don't know what happened!"

Sain's voice filtered over to her, but it kind of went in one ear and out the other, with only one thought before she forgot about him again: _liar_.

"Kent, what kind of knight are you? Why, our beauteous liege is in a heap on the ground and you stand there and…and gape! Why… Why, Kent! I never would have thought that…"

It was about that point when people started to disperse, probably because Sain had scared them all off. For once, she was grateful for his overabundance of words. She really was fine, of course. It was just taking her a little bit of time to process everything that had just happened.

First, Hector had been a numbskull, and then she had sidestepped Rath's horse that was being ridden by Wil…before taking three steps back to avoid Hyperion's tail, and then twisting around to try to keep from getting a mouthful of snow-white feathers. That last twist was probably what did it, she thought to herself as she felt a careful touch on her arm.

"Lady Lyndis… Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she said. "I'm…" Suddenly, any sense of coherency she might have had seemed to fade as she turned her head and her entire world—for the moment, anyway—consisted of one other person. "Kent…"

He paused, flushed lightly, and looked away.

He probably apologized, too, because he always did for everything, whether it was his fault or that of his conniving, sly friend (or heck, even if it wasn't his fault at all), but if there were apologies involved, she certainly didn't hear them.

It was another one of those moments in her day that just…made waking up worth it. She smiled at him brightly, which made his face turn even redder. He appeared to be so uncomfortable that she felt bad for him, though, and got to her own feet. He looked as if he wanted to offer his assistance, but he was a second too late in doing so.

Kent was, of course, a very interesting man. At least, Lyndis thought so. There were a lot of things about him that she didn't know, but everything that she did know, she liked. She was usually the type that always went after what she wanted, but in the case of Kent, she had no idea as to how exactly to attempt to get…what she wanted, since what she wanted was him.

"Are you unhurt?" he tried again.

Lyn was admittedly touched by his concern. Thoughts ran through her mind very quickly. She wondered what he would do if she just fainted on the spot. What if she _wasn't_ all right? She'd never know, of course, because she was perfectly fine—through no doubt a little bruised.

"I am," she replied, twisting around to look behind her before dusting off the back of her dress.

"You're bleeding, milady!" His voice, which sounded startled, only managed to startle her, and she looked down to find that a trickle of blood was running down the side of her leg. She blinked at it for a moment.

"I—Serra! …Serra? But I could swear that…" He shook his head slightly, pulling a handkerchief out of his pocket before holding it out to her. "She was standing next to Hyperion only a moment ago."

Hyperion, she thought. That was how her leg had been cut. The wyvern's scales were sharp enough to cut skin; she just hadn't gotten out of his way fast enough. (At least Hyperion was merely an animal and had an excuse, though really, Hector's mind was probably on the exact same wavelength…)

Lyn accepted her knight's handkerchief and patted away the blood.

"I'm sorry Lady Lyn!" Wil called from several yards away. "I don't know what happened! I think the poor horse heard Sain talking and just couldn't take it anymore!"

She grinned while Kent merely sighed.

…_**xOx…**_

"Little does he know that it was you that sent the poor horse into a frenzy like that," Serra whispered coquettishly.

He only laughed. "I might have frightened Rath's horse," he said, "but you scared Hyperion half to death!"

"I did not!" Indignant, she glared at him, crossing her arms over her chest. "I kicked at his tail a little is all!"

"Imagine what might have happened had Lady Lyn not gotten out of the way, though," Farina said quickly, poking her head into the conversation. "Instead of ending up with a little cut on her leg, she might have lost the whole damned thing!"

"Yeah!" Sain agreed before pausing. He seemed to realize how childish his response sounded, and blinked. "We need a plan that forces him to say something to Lady Lyndis."

"Forces him? How can you force a man to do _anything_?" Serra rolled her eyes and winked at Farina. "They're _soo_ stubborn!"

"So are women. You said I was gross!"

"I said no such thing; I merely stated that your flirting was distasteful, and I thought it was gross!"

"You said it made _me_ gross!"

"It's the truth, though," Farina said smugly, smacking both of them in the back of the head. "Now shut up. Look, I don't want to fight alongside Mister Britches-in-a-Bunch even one more time if I can help it. I need someone who will talk back! Every time I try to get him started, he just apologizes!"

"Unlike someone else we all know." Serra opened one eye lazily to peer at Sain, who promptly ignored her for one second before pressing his hand against his heart. He might have acted dramatic, then, wavering on his feet and collapsing in a rumpled pile of armor and flesh on the ground, but Serra and Farina were too busy scheming to notice.

…_**xOx…**_

Kent had absolutely no idea why Sain had slapped his horse's hindquarters earlier in the day. Maybe his friend had, in concern for Lyndis, tried to get Kent to her side faster. Surely he didn't want Kent's mare to trample their liege… No, of course not. The idea was absurd!

But Lady Lyndis had honestly managed to come very close to being seriously hurt. It concerned him, to say the least. (Though part of his concern might actually have been related to the fact that he wanted to wipe the blood off of her leg for her, which was more inappropriate than watching her sleep, to be sure.)

Either way, he kept at least one eye—but usually two—on his lady liege. In fact, he was so busy watching her—to make sure nothing terrible happened to her, of course—that Serra's left foot almost ended up with an imprint of a horseshoe on the top of it.

After apologizing profusely for his lack of concentration—though honestly, Serra herself had been arguing vehemently with both Farina and Sain the entire time, and wasn't paying attention, either—he veered away toward the edge of the road where he might watch Lady Lyndis without hurting, maiming, killing, or trampling anyone.

He spent a few glorious minutes there, peacefully watching the woman that he…ah, loved—he was getting better at admitting it to himself—before his parade was rained on by none other than Sain.

"She looks happy, doesn't she?"

A bit startled, he turned his gaze to his supposed friend and blinked in confusion.

The other man only laughed and slouched in his saddle, a silly grin on his face, "Of course she does, Kent. You can admit that much, can't you?"

Kent was, if anything, wary. Very much so, as a matter of fact. When his friend brought up Lady Lyndis as a topic of conversation, there were only so many ways the discussion could go; considering he'd caught Kent staring at Lyn over and over again, he had a sneaking suspicion that he knew exactly what was going to happen…and he would have no part of it.

"Sain, would you spar with me when we stop for the night? I feel I am getting rusty."

Snorting, Sain prodded his comrade with his forefinger. "Rusty? I doubt it. But I will indulge you in your request, my boon companion!"

If Kent thought that things might have stayed silent after that, or that Sain might…go away after agreeing to a spar, later, he was be sorely mistaken.

"Say, Kent? Lady Lyndis likes to watch us spar."

He sighed, brushing his red hair out of his eyes. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"She always roots for you to win."

Oh, the bloody idiot. Kent could kill him. Well, Kent could kill just about anyone, really, if he wanted to, but usually he didn't have the urge to cause physical injury to anyone, let alone a friend. But why did the man have to talk about Lady Lyndis…again? For the millionth time in a week!

"Don't be ridiculous." Short, simple responses should have discouraged him…

"Well, I know this because every time we spar against one another, she cheers when I lose."

"That's because you're _gross_!" Serra's voice cut into the conversation as she lifted her staff and pointed it at Sain from the back of Priscilla's horse. Kent lifted his eyes to the sky to see Priscilla…riding on Heath's wyvern with him.

Too bad he wasn't allowed to ask Lady Lyndis if she would like to—well, maybe—ride with…him.

Ah, his face burned with shame just thinking of it! It wasn't right at all, especially not when she was perfectly fine.

"I am not gross!" Sain was protesting. "Why do you keep saying that to me? You'll hurt my fragile, delicate—"

"—Body," Farina finished, flying just ahead of him. She turned in her saddle to grin at the rogue. "I wouldn't say that you're gross, though. Just despicable."

"Kennntttt," he whined, turning to his friend—who wasn't paying much attention to him because making certain that no harm befell Lady Lyndis was far, far more important—as his hand covered his heart. "They think I'm gross!"

"Well, are you?" he asked.

"Speaking of gross," Serra continued while Sain pretended to be devastated at his friend's lack of caring for his supposedly hurt feelings, "I am so sick of working with Fiora!"

"Serra! Are you saying she's gross?" Sain looked upset. Genuinely upset. This…admittedly did pique Kent's interest.

"Well, you think that's bad?" Farina slowed her pegasus's speed down and landed him just in front of Kent's horse as they continued to walk. "Look at who I have to work with!"

Kent sighed a little, "I…must apologize for that."

"I think I have it worse," the cleric huffed. "I mean, I can't even talk to her!"

"I can't talk to him, either!"

"I…must apologize for that as well…I think."

"Oh!" The cleric grinned and looked across Kent to Sain, who rode on the other side of him. "Guess what _I_ saw this morning?"

Farina looked interested even though she didn't so much as blink, and Kent looked as if he wanted to go somewhere else. He was beginning to feel a little claustrophobic.

And really, he didn't care for gossip at—

"Kent. Staring at—" she smiled wider and waggled her eyebrows suggestively, "—Lady Lyndis!"

If Kent could have somehow been thrown beneath the hooves of his own horse before being trampled to death, he would have almost done so gladly.

"Don't lie, Serra!" Farina gasped, blinking furiously as a wicked grin—it looked downright _evil_—covered her face. "He would never—!"

"Oh, he would." Sain nodded, smirking at his friend. "I saw it a few days ago, myself. Really, Kent, if you would just say something…"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"You should just say something to her!" Serra encouraged, nodding wisely—or as wisely as she could make a nod look, which wasn't comparable in any sense to the way Erk or Pent could nod, as if they knew everything in the world. "Just tell her how you feel!"

Kent was about to respond with a really lame retort, made even more pathetic because first, he wanted to get away from the trio of vultures surrounding him but he was boxed in, and second, Lady Lyndis was standing right next to Serra.

"Tell who how who feels?"

Serra grinned and whirled around. "Lady Lyn! Oh, you have great timing!"

"We were discussing Kent, here," Sain said carefully, grinning down at Lyndis. "And how he should just confess—"

"Ah, Lady Lyndis!" His voice did have a desperate edge to it, but he was…well, desperate. "How fare you?"

Lyn smiled and got between him and Serra. He felt significantly less claustrophobic. "I'm fine, and yourself?"

"He's absolutely smit—!"

"Oh, give it up, you guys." Lyn swatted at Priscilla's horse and the creature took a few nervous steps to the side, making Serra pull back on the reins. "Don't you have someone else to bother?"

"Not really." Farina grinned, but took to the air almost immediately.

"Did you see that?" The noble lady of Caelin pointed to the sky where Priscilla and Heath were making lazy circles around the army.

"Why, that hussy!" Serra huffed, a hand shielding her eyes from the bright sunlight. "Trying to take Heath away from Florina! Why I ought to…!"

"Florina?" Lyn cocked her head to the side, confused as Sain brought his horse around Kent to ride alongside Serra. "I don't think Florina likes Heath."

"Then who does she like?"

"Obviously me," Sain said.

"Yeah right." Serra shoved her staff into his side. "Only in your despicable dreams, Sain!" After a moment of thought, though, her face lit up. "Oh, maybe she likes Wil!"

"But I heard that Wil liked Rebecca!"

"And I thought that Rebecca liked Raven!"

"But Raven doesn't like anyone…"

Little did the two realize, but Kent and Lyndis had slowly edged away from them. Or rather, Serra and Sain had edged away from _them_ as they discussed the romantic interests of—and Kent was thankful for this—everyone but the two of them.

Since Lady Lyndis had taken to walking alongside him, though, he had changed his mind about wanting to be trampled by his own horse. The day was actually rather pleasant.

"Actually," Lyndis started, patting his horse's neck, "I came over here to ask if I could get a ride."

He was speechless for a moment as his mind processed the information, and then his face flushed red. Hadn't he _just_ been thinking about—

"Not _that_ kind of ride, Kent!" He stiffened in his saddle as Lyndis laughed a little and made a shooing motion at Farina. "Though if I daresay, Lady Lyn, I think that he would be more than happy to oblige both—ah!" She had to cut her pegasus into an angled dive to avoid Hyperion, whose massive body _whooshed_ over the space only a few feet above Kent's head.

Kent hardly noticed, of course. His mind was far, far away, namely in the land of _Stop Thinking About That_.

"Well, if you don't want to," Lady Lyndis shrugged, "then I suppose I could ask…"

He flushed deeper, mostly out of embarrassment at forgetting to answer her request. "I-It's not that, milady! I—ah—of course you may ride with me, if that is what you want."

With a grin, she let him help her into the saddle.

…_**xOx…**_

"We failed again!" Serra whined, resting her forehead against the back of Sain's armor.

The army had stopped for the night to eat and sleep, and Serra, Sain, and Farina were all very disappointed at their failures.

"I wouldn't say it was a total failure," Farina scoffed. "After all, if only the two of you could have seen his face when Lyn asked if she could get a ride! He blushed so red… Ah, it was hilarious! But not as awesome as the look on his face when I told him that she didn't mean _that_ kind of a ride!"

Chortling, Sain sheathed his newly polished sword. "I wish I had thought to say something like that to him the last time she asked him for a ride."

"I was going to say that Kent would most likely oblige on both accounts, but then Heath and Priscilla came zooming by and almost blew Murphy and I into a tree."

"You guys," Serra sighed, the sound of her forehead repeatedly hitting the back of Sain's armor echoing quietly among them. "I'm too innocent for this."

"You are the epitome of lovely innocence, my dear," Sain quipped, twirling one of her pigtails around his fingers before she slapped at his hand.

"Don't be gross," she said. "I thought you wanted Fiora?"

"Oh, I do!" he whistled a little ditty to himself before shrugging. "But if I touched her hair like that, she'd probably have stuck that barbed javelin of hers right between my eyes."

"Shut up, Sain; you'd have enjoyed every second of it." Farina crinkled her nose and laughed.

"Eww, Sain! That makes you even more gross!"

"It's not true, darling, don't listen to her!"

"Stop flirting with me when you say you like another woman, Sain!" Then, she brightened. "At least Matthew doesn't do that." Her tone took on a sing-song quality that made her companions blink.

"I think Matthew finds you highly annoying."

"He's just trying to show his affection!"

"When someone runs the other way, they're not being affectionate!"

"Hey… Hey! I have an idea."

Sain and Serra blinked at Farina's words; the tone of her voice had suddenly turned serious. "An idea?" they both asked.

"Yeah." She tilted her head to the side a little and bit her lower lip. "I'll go see if it works. I'll be back in just a second."

She was gone more like ten minutes, but neither Sain nor Serra seemed to notice. Sain was busy watching Fiora brush her pegasus—whose name he needed to find out so that he could get the creature to like him—because honestly, she looked so radiant with that small smile on her face and the sun against the back of her head, making it look as if she wore a halo!

Serra was sulking, wondering if Matthew really did find her annoying—but wait, of _course_ he didn't! He simply adored her, the same as everyone else did!

Finally, Farina came back. "Everything's settled," she said simply.

"What?" Sain blinked and gaped at her. "You got Kent to talk…?"

She snorted and shook her head. "I don't think that's possible. Besides, Lady Lyn will go after him if she wants to; we can just sit back and cackle at his awkwardness."

"So then, how is everything settled?" Serra wanted to know.

"Well, you'll be working with Matthew, Serra. Sain will be working with Fiora. Heath and Vaida will work together; Vaida insists she doesn't need a weakling like you around, anyway. I'll work with Lord Hector—and if he tries to make a case for lowering my pay, I'll give him what-for!—and Lady Lyn will work with Kent."

"Wow…"

"So how did you manage that?" Sain scratched at his chin.

"Stop playing with your peach fuzz," Farina told him.

"It's stubble! I am a man, you know!"

"Oh, you wish," Serra mumbled under her breath.

"You wound me, Serra dear! But Farina, how did you manage that?"

"It's really quite simple," she said. "I just asked."

* * *

…_**xOx…**_

**Author Notes:**

Happy Birthday to Qieru, my awesome Fire Emblem buddy. I LOVE YOU~

Also, lame endings are for the win.

_Up Next__: "Family Ties"_  
Theme #59: Tension


	37. Family Ties: Fiora, Farina, Florina

**Family Ties****  
By: Manna

* * *

**

…_**xOx…**_

The Fire Emblem 100 Challenge!**  
Theme #59: Tension  
Starring: Fiora, Farina, Florina****  
Genre: Family, Angst**  
**Warnings: **_**Rated T

* * *

**_

…_**xOx…**_

Florina would have given anything to have her mama back. Ever since she had died—and it seemed like such a long time ago—Fiora and Farina had been fighting. It was a never-ending feud, and she didn't even know what it was all about. Fiora was a pegasus knight, 14 years old and strong. Farina was an esquire, 12 years old and opinionated. Florina would, as soon as she turned 12, start more serious training. She was 11 and also an esquire.

She wanted to be just like both of her sisters…except when they were fighting, and all they did was fight, it seemed.

Her mama would have slapped both of them across the back of the head before making them apologize to one another. But her mama was buried in the cold Ilian ground, and so Farina and Fiora fought.

The youngest—and quietest—of the sisters knew that they all loved one another. She knew it. She had seen Fiora purposefully give Farina more food than her fair share, and she had seen Farina cover Fiora with an extra blanket when the weather got especially cold.

One day, there was a fight bigger than the others.

Florina tried to hide behind the staircase, but the shouting was so loud that she crawled under her bed and let the tears fall. The front door slammed closed, the voices stopped, and after a few minutes, Fiora joined her in the bedroom.

"Don't worry," she said. "She'll be back."

But Farina didn't come back.

…_**xOx…**_

"It was such a stupid fight!" her sister declared, now 15 years old and taking Florina to another training meet. She always looked out for the youngest of them, always took care to make sure that nothing bad happened.

"What was it about?" Florina found herself asking, her fingers twisting in her lavender locks as she watched the anger in her sister's face fade to something that looked like sorrow.

"Money," she said quietly, stopping in the snow, ignoring the wind as it whipped around them both. "It was about money." Then, she took a step forward, "She said I didn't make enough money for the missions I took." She stopped again and pulled Florina close before touching her face gently. "Florina, no amount of money is _really_ worth risking your life for."

"We don't have a choice," the smaller of them answered in a whisper, hugging her sister back.

She laughed, a short, hollow sound that was followed one tear, and then two, "I know. I know, and I'm sorry."

"Maybe she'll come back soon." But even Florina knew that Farina wasn't coming back.

The worst part wasn't that she couldn't see her, or talk to her, or just laugh with her.

The worst part was not knowing what had happened to her.

What if she was hungry, or cold? Florina knew that Fiora worried about the same things, perhaps more than she did. Maybe that was the cause of the small wrinkles in her forehead and the permanently serious expression on her face.

Florina found herself away from home more often than not, on trips to all kinds of places, villages, farms, towns. She delivered items, documents, and sometimes she was sent to arrange trades.

It was during that time that she happened to meet Lyn. Lyn was silly and young and carefree. She always had a smile on her face that didn't waver as long as the sun shone. Lyn was beautiful and caring and sweet and Florina's first real friend.

She stopped to see Lyn whenever she could; every time she flew over the plains of Sacae, she would swoop down for a quick chat, a smile, maybe a trade—blankets were always in high demand in Ilia, especially if they were warm, and the Lorca made wonderful, thick blankets—before going on her way.

Fiora was 18 and the commander of a wing of pegasus knights when she was sent to Etruria to settle the details of a mission. She came back now and again, but something serious was brewing—she was being sent with her entire squadron rather than only a few under her command—and things weren't to be discussed with a third party.

Florina found herself alone, often, and she was only too eager to go on the little missions they liked to send her on.

Finally, she was forced to tell Lyn goodbye for real—she swore she'd come back to see her whenever she could, but she would soon become a full-fledged pegasus knight, and that meant finding a group of mercenaries to fight and earn money with. She knew it could be a long time before she saw her friend again.

When she returned to Ilia, things seemed bleaker than before. Fiora was stressed out, accepting small missions while still planning the one requested from Etruria. It was, of course, to keep food on the table, to keep them all alive. Crops didn't grow well in Ilia, even in the summer months, so it was expensive to buy food year-round.

Florina had always been sensitive one, a crybaby according to some, and she cried more in the months before her knighting than she had since Farina left them. She wanted to go back to Lyn and Madelyn and Hassar. They were always so happy and sweet, quiet, serene. Her sister was always busy, always tired, and always, always, _always_ working too hard.

At her knighting ceremony, as she walked away with the key to stall number 34—Huey was now hers forever—Florina wondered if she would be a good pegasus knight. She wondered if she would ever do anything heroic, if she would ever save any lives as Fiora had, or if she'd make a lot of money like Farina had always wanted to do.

She wondered if she'd fight alongside good people or bad. She wondered if she'd fight in any wars, or if she'd just fight bandits.

Maybe, she thought to herself with a tiny smile, she'd fly to bring help to a castle under siege, or—better yet—she'd help take back a castle!

She wished that Farina could be there to see her as she took off on her own. Would she be as proud as Fiora was? Her sister hadn't cried or anything—she never did that anymore—but she had smiled and hugged her tight and she had told her as much.

She waved down at her sister as she took to the skies, spreading her own wings along with those of her pegasus.

Her first stop? Sacae. She couldn't wait to show Lyn her new armor and Huey's shiny new bridle. Lyn would be delighted, would pet Huey's nose and ask her all about her knighting ceremony.

And after that? Who knew! Maybe—just maybe—she would even see Farina in the skies one day.

* * *

…_**xOx…**_

**Author Notes:**

Nothing much to say, here. I like the pegasus sisters, and nobody writes about them anymore.

_Up Next:__ "Female Persuasion"_  
Theme #100: Wedding Ceremony


	38. Female Persuasion: Ninian, Florina

**Female Persuasion  
By: Manna

* * *

**

…_**xOx…**_

The Fire Emblem 100 Challenge!**  
Theme #100: Wedding Ceremony  
Starring: Ninian, Lyndis, Serra, Florina****  
Genre: Romance, Humor**  
**Warnings: **_**Rated T

* * *

**_

…_**xOx…**_

"There are so many people… I'm not sure I can do this."

Lyndis, noble lady of Caelin, laughed quietly. "Famous last words," she said, fingertips digging into her friend's hair, tugging strands loose to let them hang about her face. "I really don't care what the maids say, Ninian—the point of doing your hair for a wedding is to look pretty and free, not stiff and formal."

"Not to be rude, Lady Lyn, but you have zero fashion sense; you can't possibly know what you're—"

"It looks nice." Quietly, the half-dragon girl interrupted Serra and put a hand to the carefully curled strands by her cheeks as Lyn threw the cleric a smug grin.

"Now, Ninian," Serra said, crossing her arms over her chest. "You know the custom, don't you?"

"Custom?"

"Shut it, Serra; you're making her nervous!"

Indeed, Ninian's lips had turned downward, her eyebrows knitting together confusedly.

"You're not from around here, so it's not as if _you'd_ know!" The supposed _fragile_ Serra had her hands on her hips, her gaze focused on Lyn.

"It's her wedding day, and she shouldn't have to worry even the smallest bit about anything!"

"And I say that our customs are very impor—Sain, you scoundrel! Stop trying to peek in here!"

"Forgive me, my dear, but the ceremony is about to start, and… Why, Lady Ninian! You look absolutely gorgeous!"

While the bride blushed, Serra stormed across the room, reaching the door and sticking her face through the crack before anyone could bat an eye. She glared up at the knight of Caelin, her expression quite cross, "I thought _I_ was gorgeous!"

"Sain, you liar! You just told me that you thought _I_ looked gorgeous!"

"N-Now Rebecca, Serra…" Holding his hands up in a placating gesture, his voice nothing short of nervous, Sain backed a few steps away from the door before taking off at a brisk walk.

Serra followed in hot pursuit, much to the relief of Lyn, who had finished messing with Ninian's hair.

"I think it looks better like this, don't you?" she asked, turning to Louise, who sat properly in a plush chair.

"It does look lovely," she said before standing. "I must join my Lord Pent before the service starts. He does have his hands full with two little babies, you know." Giggling, she went to the door and snuck a peek through it before exiting. "Oh, my, it does seem very close to starting."

"I…" Ninian paused. "What is the custom that Serra spoke of, Lady Lyn?"

Lyndis shrugged her shoulders. "I'm not sure. And please don't call me a lady. I won't be one for too much longer."

Florina shyly stepped forward, her pale gown brushing against the floor. "I, ah…"

"Ninian, you look lovely." Everyone turned to see Lady Eleanora herself closing the door behind her. "I like your hair better that way. Girls, isn't she the perfect bride for my Eliwood?"

Lyndis nodded enthusiastically, but her smile fell away from her face as Florina and Eleanora stepped close to the bride to be. "There is this custom, though, that Serra mentioned…"

"Oh, that?" Chuckling, Eleanora took Ninian's chin in a soft hand and lifted it. "Ninian, you really do look stunning. Eliwood will be so pleased."

Blushing, Ninian averted her eyes from her soon to be mother-in-law, and sighed happily. "Do you really think so?"

"Of course, Ninian!" Florina jumped in, eyes serious.

"He'll forget himself at the sight of you," Lyn agreed.

"Ah, the custom you spoke of is… Well, it's a tradition, really. It's not important, but it's supposed to bring good luck."

Florina, Ninian, and Lyn all listened intently.

"In Lycia, if a bride wears something old, something new, something borrowed, and something blue to the wedding, it's supposed to bring good fortune to her marriage."

"Oh, I know what the _something new _is," Lyn chortled, fingers prodding gently at the back of her friend's dress.

Ninian blushed, and Florina followed suit only a moment later with a stammered, "O-Oh, Lyn! Did you really have to—have to say that?"

"What's wrong with it?"

"There is nothing wrong with it," Eleanora interjected, smiling fondly at all the girls. "A woman should want to look appealing for the wedding night."

"And every night, if she wants to keep him," the Sacaen noblewoman said, smirking.

"L-Lyn…"

"What? I didn't say anything wrong."

Eleanora chuckled and patted Ninian's shoulder. "I'll take my leave, now. Lady Lyndis, you'd best follow soon, since you are not in the wedding party."

"I…am sorry about that," she murmured in response, a finger to her lips as she chewed the tip of her nail. "I'm not… I thought it best if I didn't—"

"It's okay, I understand." And with that, Eleanora dropped a kiss to Ninian's cheek and left the room.

"So…Lyn…" A sly smile seemed to grace the dragon girl's features, but the one she was speaking to was too busy messing with the rather irritating fabric of her own dress to see it.

"Yes?"

"What are _you_ going to wear for your wedding night… For when _you_ get married?"

Surprised, the Sacaen plainswoman looked up, green eyes blinking once, before she set her chin stubbornly and crossed her arms over her chest. "I won't be getting married," she said. "Either your way or mine."

The other girls knew better than to take Lyn's reaction at face value; their friend was upset that she would never be allowed to marry a man beneath her station in Lycia, and they knew she would never be married in the way of the Lorca, as she was—relatively speaking, of course—the last of her people.

"I'm wearing…" Ninian blushed, but smiled. "It's a pretty shade of blue," she said. "And so lacy!"

Florina giggled behind a hand, and Lyndis laughed lightly.

"Eliwood will think you are the most beautiful woman he's ever seen," the pegasus knight assured her.

Lyndis nodded. "So, Florina," she grinned. "What did _you_ wear, when you married Hector?"

Blushing furiously, the smaller girl buried her head in her arms for a moment. "I-I, Lyn!"

"What? It happened, didn't it? Oh, I'll bet Hector's eyes just about popped out of his head."

"It matched my eyes," was all they managed to get out of her, though, much to both of their disappointment.

"Come on, Lyn, it isn't fair for Florina to answer, and not you."

Lyn smoothed down her skirts and tried to tug up the neckline of her dress as she made her way for the door. "I have to go," she practically sang. "Kent is holding my seat, and crowds make him uncomfortable; I'd rather not keep him waiting!"

"B-But you didn't answer our question, Lyn!" Florina looked ripped off, and Ninian sighed.

Poking her head back through the door, the nomadic princess grinned almost wickedly. "I'll wear _nothing_ on my first night. I hear that's how it all ends up, anyway!" With that, she turned on her heel, and her laughter followed her down the hall, only overshadowed by the other two women's bouts of giggling.

"C-Come on, Ninian," Florina said, recovering from her amusement as she helped her friend to her feet, and did her best to straighten her long, white train. "You look so lovely…"

Bowing her head, Ninian couldn't find the words to reply.

"Who is walking you down the aisle?"

"Sir Marcus." Ninian averted her gaze, though, and she almost looked as if she were lost in another world. "I wish, more than anything, Florina, that Lord Elbert could be here to do me the honor."

"Oh, Ninian…" Standing on her toes, Florina's arms came around her friend in a gentle hug. "I'd hug you better," she said, grinning as she pulled away, "but I don't want to mess up your dress, or your hair, or your—"

"I'm getting married."

"Of course you a—"

"I'm… Florina, I'm getting married today." Ninian's eyes had tears in them, but she had a smile on her face, and it was all her friend could do to keep from laughing.

"You are," she said instead, her smile wide. "You'll like married life, Ninian. It's…nice. Now, stand tall and—yes, just like that." The smaller girl waved off a particle of dust that had dared to land on one of the dragon girl's starch-white gloves, and she stepped back, nodding appreciatively. "It's going to be hard for Eliwood to wait for the wedding night," she said softly, blushing as she said it, but not looking apologetic in the slightest.

"F-Florina!" Ninian blushed again, looking down, but after a moment's pause, spoke again, her own voice soft. "…Do you really think so?"

"Oh, I know so," she said. "Now come. I'm first, and you're after me… Just take a deep breath, okay? Everything will be—"

"I'm so nervous," the other girl breathed.

"Nervous? Of course you are. This is a big day, and there are thousands of people who can't wait to see their beautiful new Lady of Pherae. But Ninian? I-I have a secret for you."

"Oh?" Leaning in close, she prepared to listen.

Cupping her hand against her friend's ear, Florina whispered, "When you see Eliwood at the end of that aisle, nerves will be the last thing on your mind." Then she pulled away and grinned good-naturedly, straightening her own dress before picking up her flowers from a nearby chair. "You'll see him standing there, blue eyes only on you, and all you'll be thinking of is that you need to go stand up there with him."

"Oh, Florina. It's like a fairy tale, like the ones Lord Elbert used to tell Nils and I."

"Cheer up, Ninian. Let's see… Do you have your… Ah, your something blue can be your _present_ for Lord Eliwood, tonight. Something new?"

"My dress?"

"Of course. Okay, something borrowed?"

"Lady Eleanora leant me these pearls…"

"Good… Now, something old…"

"Oh, but I don't have anything… Well, there's…me."

Laughing, Florina patted her friend's shoulder and shook her head. "I say that's as good as anything, but I have a better idea…"

"What?" Eagerly, Ninian leaned forward. "Tell me, please! I don't want to ruin tradition."

"Your ring," Florina said, plainly, taking the older girl's right hand and patting the top of it with her other. "Ninis's Grace. It belonged to your mother, didn't it?"

"Yes…"

"So it's old, and also very dear to you. That's your _something old_."

"So…it's starting?"

"Yes, it's starting. Now, remember what I told you." Standing straight, herself, Florina tugged Ninian to the door. "Everyone's seated, so we'll stand out here; you wait until Marcus takes your arm to walk forward."

"T-Thank you, Florina."

The girl smiled, and curtsied deep. "Milady," she said teasingly, "your audience awaits." And with that, Florina opened the door for the two of them. Her friend only waited a moment before Hector, as Eliwood's best man, came and took her arm. They disappeared around the corner, leaving Ninian with Marcus, who waited a moment before bowing and taking her arm, himself.

"Milady," he said, and she thought that the stern edge of his voice had been replaced with…perhaps, a slightly softer tone. "Are you ready?"

"As ready as I'll ever be," she said, nervously, taking his arm. Pherae was waiting.

* * *

…_**xOx…**_

**Author Notes:**

This was so much fun to write. Giggling women are fun to write. Weddings are fun to write. Their little talk about lingerie was my favorite part, though. (That figures!) Thanks for reading, and please leave feedback if you have the time! (If you see anything that needs fixing (ie: typos, grammar issues, et cetera) please let me know so that I can correct it!

_Up Next:__ "Etrurian Meatballs"_  
Theme #35: A Bond


	39. Etrurian Meatballs: Merlinus, Vaida

**Etrurian Meatballs****  
By: Manna

* * *

**

…_**xOx…**_

The Fire Emblem 100 Challenge!**  
Theme #35: A Bond  
Starring: Merlinus, Vaida****  
Genre: Friendship**  
**Warnings: **_**Rated T

* * *

**_

…_**xOx…**_

As per his usual habit, Merlinus found himself rummaging through the camp's ration supplies. It wasn't time to eat; no, it was late at night and he himself had insisted that the rations not be poked into for midnight snacks.

To his credit, it was only 11:59.

When he looked up, though, his eyes met with the terrifying, evil grin of a wolf.

"Now what do you think you're doing, you old codger?"

Wolves were admittedly very beautiful creatures, but poor old Merlinus was well aware that they tore into their prey with wild abandon. He didn't dare let his eyes enjoy the sight of the woman in front of him. It was too dark to see her long legs, anyway.

"E-Eating, Dame Vaida." Oh, he was living on the edge, living _dangerously_, and he was quite enjoying himself. Well, enjoying himself as much as any man could be when confronted with five feet, ten inches of deadly beauty. The last thing he would see before he met his demise would be worth everything.

She leaned closer to him, and he could swear that the air grew thicker, heavier with the feeling of her breath fanning across his cheek. The scar that sliced down the side of her face seemed to almost glow in the moonlight, and he moved his gaze to her lips, instead; oh, and what lips they were, too!

He saw the flashing white of her teeth as she grinned and shoved her barbed lance at him.

He flinched, but only slightly. She hated weak men—or so she claimed—and he would not be one to cower before an ally, even if that ally was Dame Vaida, fierce and frightening. She was also lovely in her own way, and though a demon at times, he knew there was a bit of woman hidden deep inside her.

He wouldn't dare say as much to her, though he'd sure love another peek at the womanly side of her.

"Here," she said roughly, and he noticed a strange lump on the end of her weapon. "Instead of diving into our precious rations, merchant, eat this."

It was another meatball. He carefully plucked it off of the tip of her lance with a startled, "T-Thank you, Dame Vaida!" though he wasn't sure if he was thanking her for the meatball, or for sparing his puny little merchant life.

Either way, he _was_ thankful.

He chewed it thoughtfully as she gave him a hard stare. He was strangely proud for not sweating even one bead at her presence, but just then, a question came to mind, and he took a deep breath before asking, almost afraid to speak, but knowing that if he didn't, she would know he was acting the part of a chicken, rather than a man. "Dame Vaida," he said slowly, swallowing the meatball first, his reasoning behind doing such a thing being that it was rude to speak with your mouth full, and on top of that, it would be best to get it into his stomach in case he didn't like her answer to his question. "Did you ever find out what these are called?"

She raised one eyebrow, the action one that reminded him of an alpha female as it cocked its head to the side. She looked decidedly feminine, in that moment, and he had a little trouble maintaining a neutral expression. "What do you mean?"

"Before, you said…"

"Oh." She shifted her stance, and he looked down at her strong legs, partially covered with her boots, before quickly moving his gaze back to her face.

Thank the great Saint that she was too busy thinking to notice his slip of self-control. He was an old man, after all, and she was a beautiful woman… It wasn't as if he had been looking at anything she wasn't showing, honestly!

"I know," she said suddenly, her lance held carefully in the crook of her arm as she slammed the fist of her right hand down in the palm of her left. "I'll call them Etrurian Meatballs!" Satisfied with her answer, she clapped him on the back with great force, and took her leave.

Ah…she had a way with words, didn't she? He watched her go, though, almost unable to help himself. She was fascinating, in her own way. A demon, a woman, a wolf… Maybe she was even a viper, swift and terribly poisonous! He would figure her out someday, he just knew it. To start with, he would make some roasted dumplings, as she _had_ taken a shine to them…

Just then, his face paled.

_Etrurian_ meatball?

He hurried from his spot in the shadows, his eyes wide.

Oh, he had better make sure that Erk was all right, and for that matter, Lord Pent and Lady Louise, too!

* * *

…_**xOx…**_

**Author Notes:**

I SHIP IT.

_Up Next:__ "No Tears"_  
Theme #53: A Confrontation of Fate


	40. No Tears: Hector, Farina

**No Tears  
By: Manna

* * *

**

…_**xOx…**_

The Fire Emblem 100 Challenge!**  
Theme #53: A Confrontation of Fate  
Starring: Hector, Farina****  
Genre: Romance, Tragedy, Angst**  
**Warnings: **_**Rated T

* * *

**_

…_**xOx…**_

Cold.

Hector considers himself to be very warm-blooded, but standing beneath the sun at the end of a long August day leaves him feeling so chilled that he pulls his own cape close around him. People stand and stare, and some gape at him, but he doesn't care; hell, he's never cared much for the opinions of others, so why should he start now?

He ignores them. He ignores the sound of the birds singing, and the wind in the grass, and the tree branches as they sway back and forth overhead. He ignores everything, and his knuckles turn white as he grips the neatly sewn edges of the material in his fists. He knows it won't warm him; even a thousand blankets made of the finest materials available can't cure the chill he feels.

With startling clarity, he remembers.

_It was just a sniff, Hector. Don't be ridiculous!_

He wishes he hadn't let the subject drop that day, or the next day, or the next, or weeks later, when the sniffling became coughing, and the coughing brought with it weakness, and the weakness eventually forced her to remain in bed.

Farina, lying in bed all day long.

His fingers go limp, and the cape catches the wind and flies behind him with a loud _snap_. He thinks, half-heartedly, that her younger self would have rather died than be cooped up in a bed all day; despite her love of money and security, she hated being idle for long. Farina loved adventure and craved the feeling of the wind in her hair as she flew.

He remembers laughing—_laughing_ because she was sleeping in the early afternoon. He had taken a seat on the edge of the bed before poking her in the ribs. She always swatted at him for doing it; she hated being tickled. But she only groaned, weakly pushing his hand away, and suddenly, Farina lying in bed all hours of the day… wasn't funny anymore.

What a good pretender she was—had _always_ been—he thinks. Her constant reassurance that her condition was _nothing_ had him fooled, for the most part. His eyes had suddenly opened, though, at her seemingly sudden lack of energy.

Weeks passed, and she didn't get better. He couldn't stop sleeping beside her even though everyone told him to stay away; he needed her, and she needed him, and—he just, he knew—

He was a marquess, not a physician. He couldn't use healing magic, he couldn't cure illnesses…or even expect to understand them. But he hoped that somehow, his unfailing presence would bring her back to her usual self.

Lilina didn't understand what was going on, and he—he was a mere man; how was he supposed to explain to his little girl that her mother was _dying_?

Why was—how could…

Elimine, he couldn't do everything alone!

"_Remember all those times I told you I didn't need a pushy wench like you around? I lied."_

She hadn't heard him say it, but he knew she understood. She was so far gone that she had stopped eating, and only woke up for snatches of time before passing out again. She was so thin that he could see her ribs through her clothes, and her face was so gaunt that she—that… He could hardly stand to look at her because it hurt so much.

Kneeling in the soft grass, he presses his hand against a white marble stone with her name engraved on it. "What good is your money, now?" he murmurs, his voice bitter, but perhaps in a way only the two of them can understand. She always said that money was important; only the rich said it didn't matter. She never had been able to understand that money couldn't buy everything.

"Money can't bring you back to me," he says to the stone, but he receives no reply, only space, as various nobles leave him to his quiet grief. He drops a few pieces of gold on the freshly-turned soil, and people begin to whisper. He really doesn't give a damn what they think of him, or of her. They had never known Farina, and he knows they don't know anything about him.

They can't understand his grief. How can they possibly know how he feels?

The sun glints off of the coins, but everything remains as it is.

He isn't surprised. It's not as if people can return to life. Only Eliwood has ever been that lucky.

_"Serra, do something! What—Why are you standing there? Do something! For Elimine's sake, you can't let her slip away like that! She—It's—It's too early, I can't—she…"_

_She smacks him, hard across the face, and he doesn't retaliate. "She's dead, Hector. She's dead. Dead. Dead, dead, dead!" Each word cuts deep. " She's not coming back! Just let her go—let her go, or you'll only hurt yourself." She's not angry with him, only sad. He wonders how long it's been since Oswin's passing, and he wonders how she's doing raising two children on her own. He realizes that he just doesn't know. He doesn't know anything, anymore._

If the little cleric had been able to draw blood with her barbs, he knew that he'd have bled to death that day.

"It's sunk in," he says. "I know you're not coming back." He's accepted it, but he still can't cry. He wants to, he wants to cry more than ever before, but the tears won't come. His throat gets clogged, and his eyes burn, but tears don't form, sobs don't shake his shoulders, and he pokes the golden coins down into the earth as deeply as he can before covering them up. "I love you."

Lyn had cried. The image sometimes comes back to him, of her on that pirate ship, bawling her eyes out after he pushed her too far. He still regrets it. She had cried for her family, for her people, for her shortcomings and out of love. She cried in front of him, and she hadn't seemed to care at all.

His wife's buried under the ground, cold and dead. His daughter is clinging to the hem of Serra's dress. Bors looks solemn, and Wendy looks confused. He can't cry in front of them. Serra pats them all on their heads and leads them away with the promise of something good. Food, no doubt, but all follow without question, and Hector is relieved.

The tears simply refuse to come.

He stops, and he folds his hands and bows his head; he's not praying, but merely thinking. "You're not sick anymore," he says, suddenly, eyes open but rooted to the ground. No one seems to hear him, and if they do, they choose to say nothing.

Of course he can't cry, he thinks. How could he possibly cry for someone who isn't hurting anymore?

* * *

…**xOx…**

**Author Notes:**

More practice at writing Hector. Feedback, please? (This turned out a lot better than I originally thought it did, but I'd like some critique.)

_Up Next: "Miracle"_  
Theme #68: Ancient Magic


	41. Miracle: Eliwood, Ninian

**Miracle****  
By: Manna

* * *

**

…_**xOx…**_

The Fire Emblem 100 Challenge!**  
Theme #68: Ancient Magic  
Starring: Eliwood, Ninian****  
Genre: Romance**  
**Warnings: **_**Rated K+

* * *

**_

…_**xOx…**_

He didn't understand the specifics, and neither did she, it seemed. But he knew one thing for certain, and that was that she was in his arms.

Ninian was _alive_.

_Alive!_

It made his heart beat erratically within his chest because he hadn't thought it would be possible to see her again, let alone hold her, stroke her hair, see those shining eyes… But there he was, doing all of those things, and she was flushing in embarrassment, perhaps uncomfortable because everyone seemed to be staring.

"In a good way," he insisted. "They're all happy to see you, too."

She looked down into her lap.

"Though none as much as I."

She blushed beautifully, her fingertips hiding a small smile behind them.

"I thought I had lost you," he murmured, over and over again.

"And I you, milord." Her gentle touch on his arm warmed his heart, and he hugged her again, burying his face in her beautiful hair. He didn't care if Hector saw him cry—he'd beat him to a pulp during their next spar to get even, anyway—or even Lyndis—who would never stop to judge him.

He was so happy—he'd never been so happy in his entire life. He didn't care what kind of trick had brought her back, and he didn't want to hear the particulars, either. She was right there, flesh and blood. He felt the warmth of her skin beneath his hands, and the cool softness of her hair against his cheek.

Praise be! She was real, she was alive, and that was all that he needed to know.

* * *

…_**xOx…**_

**Author Notes:**

This was really lame. But I thought…if anything fits this prompt, Ninian's resurrection surely does! Thanks for reading!

_Up Next:__ "Tracing a Path"_  
Theme #41: Noble and Commoner


	42. Tracing a Path: Oswin, Serra

**Tracing a Path  
By: Manna

* * *

**

…_**xOx…**_

The Fire Emblem 100 Challenge!**  
Theme #41: Noble and Commoner  
Starring: Oswin, Serra****  
Genre: Romance, Angst**  
**Warnings: **_**Rated K+

* * *

**_

…_**xOx…**_

Serra wasn't rich or well off, and he didn't think that he would ever be able to understand—not completely—why she pretended to be. Etrurian nobility, his leather boots! But there was an unmistakable air of grace and poise about her that was, on its own, distinctly noble; maybe there was a chance, however small, that she really was the daughter of an aristocrat.

Who did it hurt, anyway, if she chose to live in her own world, in her little twisted version of _what might have been_ instead of _what truly had been_?

_Herself_, he thought as she turned toward him, not quite facing him as she traced one drop of water down the length of the smooth, streaked glass in front of her. Vaguely, he wondered why she had chosen that particular raindrop when there were hundreds rolling slowly down the windowpane.

_What makes it stand out? What makes it different from the rest?_

"They're…" she paused, uncertain. She was usually boisterous and flippant, waving her hand dismissively at others as if they were her servants instead of her equals. She never acted the way she was expected to—it wasn't spontaneous, it wasn't any fun, she said. And being descended from royalty meant that she should have the fun that she'd never had as a child.

He blinked once, slowly, and listened. He was a good listener, if anything, and his patience could rival that of Saint Elimine herself. Ever since the war had ended, and they had returned to Ostia, Serra…hadn't been acting herself.

He was a man—just an ordinary soldier of common birth—and he couldn't tell what it was that ate away at her, that pushed her silliness away, making her seem sullen and dull. Years ago, he'd have praised the good Saint that she had grown up and matured, but he knew those things had nothing to do with her switch in mood.

Something was bothering her, and he aimed to find out what. Even Lord Hector was worried, in his own way. Surely that said something!

"I was wrong." She turned back to the window, her eyes finding another droplet on the glass. Her finger touched it gently, and she began to trace its strange, winding path. "They're not coming for me."

He knew she meant her parents. The first thing she had done after arriving in Ostia had been to declare her heritage before promptly stating that her stay was only temporary. Her father and mother would take her back to Etruria and she wouldn't _have_ to be a cleric, she wouldn't _have to_, because she'd be dressing in beautiful gowns instead of a simple white dress, and she'd be embroidering instead of winding bandages.

There wasn't any shame in being a follower of Saint Elimine, he had barked at her, but he hadn't understood her then, and he scarcely understood her, now.

He didn't know what to say to her. How could a person respond to that? It was as if she'd finally come to terms with what had happened to her parents. He didn't know if they were dead, or if they had simply tossed her aside, and he doubted she knew, either. Maybe that was what bothered her more than anything, the not knowing.

"I wanted them to, though," she murmured, her head coming to rest against the cool glass with a muffled _thud_. "More than… More than _anything_."

Matthew might have said, _I told you so_, Leila might have hugged her, Uther might have smiled sadly for her sake, and Hector might have choked at the sight of her nearly in tears.

But he… He couldn't tell her it would be okay. He couldn't smile for her, or hug her, or even leave her in the corridor alone.

All he could do was put his arm on her shoulder and leave it there.

* * *

…_**xOx…**_

**Author Notes:**

I do have a very soft spot for these two.

_Up Next__: "Five More Minutes"_  
Theme #91: Alone


	43. Five More Minutes: Pent, Louise

**Five More Minutes  
By: Manna

* * *

**

…_**xOx…**_

The Fire Emblem 100 Challenge!**  
Theme #91: Alone  
Starring: Pent, Louise****  
Genre: Romance, Angst, Tragedy**  
**Warnings: **_**Rated T

* * *

**_

…_**xOx…**_

In the end, Pent's life was not what he had envisioned it would be.

He had once been a handsome, great man…but those days had passed by long ago, and all too soon, people ceased to think of him as Mage General or Duke Reglay. He became just Pent, a father, a husband, a scholar.

In the end, Pent found himself completely and utterly alone.

He loved magic, and thrived off of knowledge. It was in his bones, in his blood. He needed to understand every minute element, the hows and the whys. Not understanding was not good enough.

It started slowly, in the _five more minutes_ kind of way that a child might use to avoid waking or going to sleep.

In five more minutes, he could find a perfect stopping place for his research. _So just give me five more minutes, Dear, and I'll be up to bed._

In the end, five minutes had turned into ten, had morphed into twenty, had changed to hours and days. _I've almost got this, Love. Five more minutes._

She kept coming back, though, kept bringing him food and drink that he hardly touched. He was busy, busy working, busy learning. His mind rejoiced at every little speck of knowledge he managed to absorb, and he laughed and smiled, pounding his fist against the wooden surface in front of him when he discovered something new.

Her biscuits sat untouched on the corner of his desk.

The glass of milk beside them had gone sour.

_Come on, Father. Mother needs you._

But she didn't need _him_, she needed their children, their love and affection. She needed them to eat her food and praise her for her culinary skills. She needed people to dote on, to take care of. She didn't need her husband for that, and he was getting closer and closer to proving a new theory about magic; maybe anyone could learn the basics of casting a fire spell.

In the end, Pent still loved her.

He'd always loved her. Her smile was beautiful, and she was the kind of woman he'd dreamed about marrying. Louise wasn't like the other girls—she'd promised her life to him, her loyalty, her affection. And she'd been there every step of the way; she'd even followed him to the Nabata Desert what felt like a lifetime ago.

In the end, Louise still loved him.

_Five more minutes, Dear, and I'll be up to bed._

She'd died in her sleep, they told him.

In the end, he wanted only five more minutes.

With her.

* * *

…_**xOx…**_

**Author Notes:**

Just a what-if type of scenario. I like Pent, and I like Louise, but this is the drastic end of the scale here, where…somewhere along the line, he starts neglecting her after Clarine and Klein are born.

_Up Next:__ "Every Life"_  
Theme #21: Soldier


	44. Every Life: Marcus, Eliwood

**Every Life  
By: Manna

* * *

**

…_**xOx…**_

The Fire Emblem 100 Challenge!**  
Theme #21: Soldier  
Starring: Marcus, Eliwood****  
Genre: General**  
**Warnings: **_**Rated K+

* * *

**_

…_**xOx…**_

Once upon a time, long ago, his life had been nothing but a disorganized mess. He hadn't been any different than most young men who walked the path toward adulthood—he had been just as confused and lost as the next adolescent—but everything changed the moment he was knighted.

Instead of concerning himself with the affairs of his childhood comrades—who, by that time, were working in the fields, marrying, and having children—he busied himself with lance thrusts—ten, then one hundred, and finally one thousand. It wasn't long before his friends forgot about him—or perhaps it was the other way around—and he began to rise through the ranks of the Pheraen military.

All of a sudden, he found himself giving orders instead of receiving him. There were men—and the occasional woman—whose very lives were dependant on him. If he did not train them right, they could easily lose their lives.

He worked them hard.

Marcus had always loved Pherae. The forests and winding, bubbling creeks were beautiful to many people. He was no exception, but the strong stone walls of the castle, and the air, heavy with sweat and the smell of horses, were where he sought and found familiarity and peace.

Lord Elbert and Lady Eleanora were fair and just rules, and their young son showed much promise as a future marquess.

It was a time of peace and prosperity, his men complained, so why were they being driven to succeed?

One could never be too careful, he warned them. Peace? Prosperity? Those could disappear in the blink of an eye. It only took an instant—one second—to lose everything.

Every little precious thing.

And, he might add, if he felt particularly generous, a real man, a real soldier, a real _knight_, would love his country and his liege enough that a little bit of self-sacrifice would be given willingly, gladly, without thought.

If one thousand lance thrusts each morning held even the smallest chance of someday saving the life of the marquess—even if not for ten, twenty, thirty years—then it was time well spent. Not a moment would be lost in training so dutifully, so hard.

The complaints continued, but a few did understand.

He wondered, sometimes, if those that understood were the ones who had lost everything, once, and had no desire to see the same happen to anyone else.

"Say, Marcus?" the voice of a young boy called from where he stood on the bottom rung of the wooden fence that surrounded the training grounds. "Why do they all have to do so many lance thrusts every day?"

"Lord Eliwood." He found the corners of his lips turning up just slightly. Only eleven years old, the young heir to Pherae's throne was inquisitive; he soaked up knowledge as quickly as humanly possible. With such a thirst for information, he would surely be a good leader someday.

"Well, good Sir Marcus? They took so tired, and it's still so early in the morning!"

The young son of Lord Elbert had hands that were still relatively soft and unused to hard labor—very different from Marcus's own blistered, calloused fingers. "Because," he began, keeping an eye on his men as he chose to answer the young man's question slowly, "someday, your life may be in their hands… It would not do for them to falter with your life at stake, milord."

Scratching gently at his red hair, young Lord Eliwood tilted his head to the side to survey the group of men as they counted their way to one thousand thrusts of the lance. "Then perhaps," he said softly, smiling in that gentle way he had no doubt inherited from his mother, "I ought to practice more, too."

Startled, Marcus turned to regard the son of his lord and friend. "Why do you say that?" he asked.

"Oh, you already answered that." He tipped back and forth on the bottom rail by the arches of his feet and finally stopped with his arms holding him away from the fence. "Someday, their lives may be in my hands… It wouldn't do for me to falter with their lives at stake."

It was no wonder that Lord Elbert insisted that Marcus stay near Eliwood instead of himself. The young man had a tender, caring heart, worrying more about others than himself.

Even men whose faces and names he did not know.

He found himself nodding, a newfound respect for the young heir warming his blood. "Of course, milord," he said, but what he wondered was how it was that a mere child could see what it was most men could not.

Every life matters.

Every life counts.

"It would be good to know how to defend yourself, just in case."

"And others, too," Eliwood insisted, smiling wider as he leapt from the fence and landed on his feet in the dirt. "Don't tell Father, but I don't like to fight. If I have to do it, though, I'd rather it be to aid someone else."

Marcus swallowed thickly as Lord Eliwood ran for his room and the rapier that no doubt lay near his bed.

It was just like him to be so selfless.

Lord Eliwood could pick up a sword and practice all he wanted, but Marcus would do his best to make certain that his young lord never had to pick that weapon up to fight for anyone.

But he knew, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that if something were to happen, if Pherae did take up arms for any reason…then Lord Eliwood would surely be there, fighting alongside his men as if he were one of them.

* * *

…_**xOx…**_

**Author Notes:**

Nothing much to say, here. Marcus deserves more 'fic. And young!Eliwood was begging to be written at least once.

_Up Next: __"Princess In a Tower"_  
Theme #3: Heroine


	45. Princess In a Tower: Eleanora, Eliwood

**Princess In a Tower  
By: Manna

* * *

**

…_**xOx…**_

The Fire Emblem 100 Challenge!**  
Theme #3: Heroine  
Starring: Eleanora, Eliwood****  
Genre: General, Family**  
**Warnings: **_**Rated K+

* * *

**_

…_**xOx…**_

Before Eliwood went on a quest to save the world, before he slew dragons and found the girl of his dreams, she was there.

In those days, he wouldn't have dreamt of leaving her behind to kill a dragon, and he'd never have wanted to save the world without her by his side. He would take her by the hand with a laugh, and then he'd tug her toward the gardens where she would play a princess who was trapped in a tower. Guarding the tower would be a dragon, and he would be young Lord Eliwood, knight and hero. He would slay the dragon, save the princess, and he'd hug her leg and listen to her soft-spoken praise of a job well done.

If he scraped his knee, only she could heal it properly. Staves and magic aside, a few cuts and bruises could only get better if she kissed them and made them "all better".

Now she sits in the castle tower, not trapped, but merely waiting.

Waiting for her prince, her knight, her hero? She laughs softly at the thought, her fingertips tracing the edge of the window glass in front of her as she watches Eliwood and his little army disappear in the distance.

She's not like Lady Lyndis, who is hardly a lady at all, nor is she like Lady Louise, so refined and elegant but possessing amazing skill with the bow. No, she is Lady Eleanora, good at cross-stitching and embroidery, good at running Castle Pherae, at keeping the books and finances in order, at directing the cooking staff and the servants.

She wants nothing more than to have the skills that Lady Lyndis and Lady Louise do. If she could pick up a sword and charge into battle, she'd do so gladly. She'll do anything to protect her son, the one who pretended to poke a wooden sword into the belly of a pony that he had declared was secretly a dragon out to keep her locked in a tower forever and ever and ever.

"I'll protect you, Princess!" he had declared. And he had. He'd protected her from the loneliness that being the wife of a marquess was. (How could she have realized how busy Elbert would be?)

He'd given her so much laughter and joy.

She wants to give that back to him.

Her most recent memory, only hours old, now, comes to mind. She sees the apologetic look in his eyes as he prepares to leave her, again, and the smile on his lips as he says, "Let me go, Mother. Let yourself let me go."

He's her baby, her son, her little boy. He's hardly a man.

She's already lost his father. She can't imagine losing him, too.

His arms around her are warm; it takes everything in her to let him go.

She doesn't want him to go, afraid that next time, she'll find herself wrapping her arms around a corpse instead of a living, breathing man.

She smiles at him, brushes back his red hair, and nods, once. Just once. Her eyes are threatening to spill over, and the others look off to the side. Perhaps they are respecting her privacy, leaving her to grieve in peace.

"There's a reason I always looked up to you so much as a boy," Eliwood tells her. "Thank you," he continues, "for always understanding."

* * *

…_**xOx…**_

**Author Notes:**

Eleanora and Eliwood never get any Mother/Son moments in 'fic. It makes me sad.

_Up Next__: "Wholly Himself"_  
Theme #19: Those who inherit the blood of a dragon


	46. Wholly Himself: Nils, Ninian

**Wholly Himself****  
By: Manna

* * *

**

…_**xOx…**_

The Fire Emblem 100 Challenge!**  
Theme #19: Those who inherit the blood of a dragon  
Starring: Nils, Ninian****  
Genre: Family, Introspective**  
**Warnings: **_**Rated K+

* * *

**_

…_**xOx…**_

He had always known that they were different. In dragon form, they weren't _quite_ like the other dragons—smaller, perhaps—and in human form, they weren't _quite_ like the other humans, either.

Did a place in Elibe exist that could accept both of them as they were?

No, because those of half-blood were never truly accepted anywhere. Tolerated, yes, but accepted? Nils found the thought hard to imagine.

Even Lady Lyndis, half-Sacaen, and half-Lycian, could not seem to find a place where everyone welcomed her with open arms, and she, at least, was human, wholly so. How different, then, would the continent of Elibe treat a child through whose veins flowed the blood of a dragon?

He and Ninian were born of love, but such things rarely changed a person's opinion.

It was all rather strange, really. The dragons lived peacefully among themselves. The humans seemed to only squabble and seek to destroy anyone who got in the way. He couldn't recall his mother's people simmering bitterly over the Scouring, but the people of his father…it was all they did.

The artwork, the stories… Dragons were feared creatures, intelligent and deadly, and he heard more stories about knights saving princesses from dragons than anything else. Biting his tongue was hard, but he had to do it. He couldn't tell the others that humans were really the deadlier race, that he had seen more backstabbing and philandering in the short amount of time on Elibe than he ever had on the other side of the Dragon's Gate.

It didn't bother Ninian, not like it bothered him. She always was the sweeter of the two of them, the graceful, beautiful dancer who gave second and third and fourth chances. He wished that he could be more like her, sometimes, but people like Lundgren and Jerme and Brendan Reed destroyed what little faith he had. Humanity… It wouldn't be long before humans destroyed themselves.

He gave up trying to fit in. Whose acceptance did he need? Nobody's.

A genuine smile that held a trace of sorrow touched his lips as he embraced his sister for what he knew would be the very last time. She had tears in her lovely eyes, but Lord Eliwood was holding her hand and Nils knew—_knew_—that he could trust him to take care of the best, most beautiful, most _amazing_ woman in the world.

She'd be fine living among the humans, never understanding their ways but trying her best to fit among them. He knew that he couldn't handle it, couldn't stand to be around the constant, never-ending fighting, the racism and the rules that pulled people apart.

Her fingers lifted in a small wave as he did the same, stepping away from her. He turned his back before he could change his mind, and crossed through the Dragon's Gate. He knew it was being sealed behind him, that he could never go back, but the thought didn't bother him.

Slowly, he transformed to his original form and arched his back in a stretch. How long had it been since he'd been _himself_, Nils, not the little human boy with the flute, but an ice dragon? It felt good to be back.

* * *

…_**xOx…**_

**Author Notes:**

I always thought that it was weird that Ninian could stay behind, but Nils always passed through the Dragon's Gate. Also, how hard it must have been for both he and Ninian to stay in forms that…were not really theirs.

My apologies for the amount of time that has passed since my last update. I have a lot of these to post, and will try to post another again soon.

_Up Next:__ "Former Knight of Caelin"_  
Theme #10: Class Change


	47. Former Knight of Caelin: Sain, Kent

**Former Knight of Caelin****  
By: Manna

* * *

**

…_**xOx…**_

The Fire Emblem 100 Challenge!**  
Theme #10: Class Change  
Starring: Sain, Kent****  
Genre: Friendship**  
**Warnings: **_**Rated T

* * *

**_

…_**xOx…**_

My dear, boon companion,

I am sending this letter in the hopes that it makes its way to you in a timely manner. I know that you, being as you are now and have always been, will have worried yourself to the point of adding a few more lines to your already-lined face. Haven't I told you before that you will grow old before your time? You may say that it is of no concern of mine now, seeing as how I left you and not the other way around, but as you said to me once, years ago…

Someone must keep after you, and if it must be me, then so be it.

I thought to send you word just as quickly as I could, and I must apologize for the delay. I am certain that you expected to hear from me much sooner than this, but I did not think that the trip would be so long, nor so hard. You must be thinking that you surely told me so, but before you begin to feel too smug about being right, I knew the situation I was putting myself into when I left Caelin. I was simply being more optimistic about it all than you allowed yourself to be.

If not for Fiora's letters to keep my heart aglow, and the memory of your last scolding to me about my supposed recklessness, I fear that I may very well have lost my sanity and my fingertips to the seemingly-endless journey and the bitter cold of Ilia's winter.

Let me simply say that there is nothing like this place. You and I heard much about it as younger men in Caelin's military, but it is both worse and better than either of us had ever imagined.

Despite making it to my dear Fiora's homeland, my journey only truly began. I might have thought to write to you, then, as I crossed into the frozen wasteland, but my life took a turn for the interesting, and I could not find the time, nor the feeling in my fingers to hold a quill properly.

We've heard about the cold weather and the snow, and how terrible they are. Sweet little Florina spoke so highly of the place, and deep down inside, I think that the both of us wondered how there could be anything good about a country that forced women to battle for food for the people, about a place so looked down upon by aristocracy and commoners alike.

To make an exceptionally long story much shorter, Ilia is beautiful, even in the dead of winter. Laugh all you want, my friend, but I can understand how Fiora and Florina find the same love for their country that you and I hold for Caelin. It's a certain kind of pride, I think, in the empty, barren fields of the land that shine brighter than the sun, sometimes. Lady Lyndis loves Sacae with all of her heart, as you know, and probably better than I, and this place is like it, sometimes.

Can you imagine the purest of snow, miles of nothing else as it sparkles under the glare of the sun? The sun is only a pretty thing, here, another to add to the long icicles that hang from the trees and the rooftops, as it seems to serve no purpose but to light up the world and make the snow brighter. It brings little warmth to the bones, and less to the soul.

Seeing Ilia as I do, now, I can almost understand how Lady Lyndis must have felt about Sacae all those years ago, when she left it to go to Caelin with us. How hard it must have been for her, Kent! And how callous of us to have failed to understand it!

You see, to us, Sacae consisted of swaying grasses and the warm sun, but she saw things in a different light. She knew and saw everything that the two of us couldn't.

I can admit, grudgingly, that when I first arrived, I did not see the beauty in the endless fields of snow, nor the ice that formed everywhere—even on my nose! It grew on me, Kent, much like Lady Lyndis grew on you, to the point of wondering how I had gone all my life without ever knowing it, without ever seeing it.

But perhaps the waiting is what made it so wonderful in the end. I remember holding my beautiful bride-to-be, and suddenly the world looked amazing. I'm sure that you know what I mean, even if you are cringing as you read this, though you are more likely to be shaking your head in denial, your red face giving your falsehood away.

I think that Fiora and I could be anywhere together, even the Nabata Desert, and I would somehow find a way to see beauty in even the smallest, driest grains of sand. I never thought that I would love Ilia as I do now, and I will admit only to you, my friend, that when I came to Ilia, I had hoped to convince Fiora to come back to Caelin with me. I hadn't wanted to stay here, suffering through the cold and the food shortages, but there is something about this place that I simply cannot explain to you, and even if I could find the right words, I know that you would never truly understand them.

Now that I have informed you that I am all right, I have news that is quite important indeed, that have made the delay of sending this letter worthwhile. I now call Fiora my wife. The word is so simple, but it means more than all of my little nicknames combined when I say it. I think that she likes hearing me say it more than she'll ever admit.

But let me not forget to add, also, that by the time this letter reaches you, all the way in Caelin, I may very well be holding a son or a daughter in these arms, the same arms that wielded weaponry in the name of the house of Caelin.

You must be laughing to yourself, now, at the mere thought of your old friend Sain being a father, but I promise you that things will turn out quite splendidly, indeed.

The sun dips in the west, Kent, and I pen this in quite a hurry, as you can easily tell by the way my penmanship is lacking in quality, and of course, in the sudden slant of my letters. I always have so much to say, and never enough time in which to say it. I wish to send this letter out on the morrow, which means I must finish it now.

So let me leave you with this one thought. If I could do it, so can you.

I know that you hold Caelin very dear to your heart, indeed, but I wonder if that is truly what holds you there. Change can be terribly frightening, as I'm sure you understand quite well. I gave up everything to go to Ilia, but I daresay it was well worth the sacrifice. Sacrifice? No, the real sacrifice was staying in Caelin as long as I did.

I implore you to think carefully about your future, my friend. Don't settle for something that will not make you happy. I could have lived all of my life in Caelin, but I chose happiness over the certainty that Caelin offered me in its military.

I still love Caelin, and, as it's the only place you've ever known, I know that you love it, too. But does Caelin hold your heart, Kent? Can Caelin make you happy?

I hope to hear from you as soon as you can find the time to write, and if it takes you a year, well, I will think that you are exacting revenge on me for the lengthy period of time that passed before I stopped to send you the letter you are currently reading, but I will understand. Do tell me how the others in Caelin are doing. Is Florina still there, or has she moved on? How is Lady Lyndis faring with the pressures of being marchioness weighing her down? Even here, we have heard talk of her abdicating, but there has been no proof. I wonder how long she can force herself to live a life that she was not meant to live.

Take care of yourself, Kent, and of Lady Lyndis, too. She is a strong woman, but even the sturdiest of trees can be felled if the wind blows hard enough. It would be a crime, indeed, to allow her to hurt alone and in silence.

Yours most sincerely,  
Sain, former knight of Caelin

* * *

…_**xOx…**_

**Author Notes:**

I really don't know. I am not well-equipped to write Sain, as my dialogue is far from eloquent.

_Up Next:__ "The Real Battle"_  
Theme #73: Sweat


	48. The Real Battle: Serra, Priscilla

**The Real Battle  
By: Manna

* * *

**

…_**xOx…**_

The Fire Emblem 100 Challenge!**  
Theme #73: "Sweat"  
Starring: Serra, Priscilla****  
Genre: Friendship, Introspective**  
**Warnings: **_**Rated T

* * *

**_

…_**xOx…**_

Battle had a tendency to leave the senses dull when the action ended, when those who declared themselves victorious held their tattered banners high in an extraordinary wave, one that spoke of the clang of swords and the fact that their men had been more fortunate than the enemy. Enemies, indeed, those who lay scattered across the ground, their broken corpses already home to insects that would feast on their remains.

Those who fought and lived slapped one another on the back, boasting of their victories as their chests puffed out with pride. How very fortunate they were to live to fight another day!

For them, the battle was over.

For others, it was merely the beginning.

The smell of sweat was never as pungent as it was in the healers' tent, where the injured lay, the dying, writhing and groaning as their wounds seeped through makeshift bandages. _Hurry, hurry_, became the mantra of the after-hours. One man might have a broken arm, but another man's legs might have been crushed beneath his own horse, and yet another might have an arrow in his side, or the tip of a javelin in his back.

Priorities were realized, but rarely mentioned. The men who were lucky enough to survive the skirmish with few or only minor injuries were called in to assist.

Hold him down, pull the arrow out of that one, and how would _you_ feel if you were the one lying there, hurting, bleeding, writhing in agony, and all this prolonged because one soldier thought that he was above offering his assistance?

Serra sighed and brushed her hair back from her face, the rose-colored strands damp with sweat. Her legs folded neatly beneath her as she took a seat next to a bedroll. Almost as if the occupant knew she was there, a head turned toward her, the man's forehead a mess of lines as the motion made him groan in pain. Sighing as a person who had the weight of the world on their shoulders might do, she took the time to gently brush her fingertips over his temple; he immediately fell silent, somehow calmed by her simple act of kindness.

Looking up, she noticed Priscilla standing beside her, tears in her eyes, but a smile on her lips. She looked like an angel fallen from heaven, Sain had been sure to say earlier, both of them did.

But with so many injured and still in pain, Serra could hardly believe the silly knight's sweet words, no matter how much she wanted to.

"Sir Oswin will be just fine," the redhead murmured, reaching down to twirl the younger woman's pigtail around her fingers.

Somehow, she found comfort in it, enough to give her friend a strained smile. "I know," she answered, not fully believing it, but wanting to with every fiber of her being. So many had been lucky, so lucky, but that was all it was, just plain old stupid luck.

She brushed her fingers across Oswin's face again before she stood and left the salty air of the tent for the coolness that could be found outside the canvas walls. The moon was out, and it wasn't long before Priscilla joined her, wringing her hands in a towel as she stared up at the glowing white crescent in the sky.

"It almost looks good enough to eat," she said softly, and smiled again, using the towel to wipe her eyes. It wouldn't do to let the others see how badly the sight of the injured could hurt.

"I don't think I can eat anything tonight," Serra replied, a harsh laugh erupting from her chest as she crossed her arms and leaned against one of the poles that Bartre had helped to drive into the soft soil.

"We were so very blessed, today."

A small nod, a sigh, and the young woman shook her head, casting her gaze to the trampled grass at her feet. "It was so close."

"We almost lost Sir Kent. I think that Lady Lyndis will stay with him forever, if need be."

Her lips curved upward slightly as she acknowledged her friend's words. It was true, so true. "If not for Sain's flattery, I don't…"

"It's always hard to—"

"I… I never wanted to be on a battlefield, Priscilla. I wanted to be a real lady, one that never had to see…see _this_." She gestured to her modest white dress, and the blood that was splattered all across the front of it, at the dirt staining the hem. "I like helping people, but…"

"It's hard to help them when you know them. To see them lying there, to know their name, their face, the shape of their nose, to see that hole in their side, knowing it doesn't belong there…"

"Sir Oswin will pull through." This time, it was Serra who spoke the words. "He is a very determined man."

"He's better off than Sir Kent, and I am sure Lady Lyndis's knight will be fine."

The rush had died down, the dying now among the living, the injured sleeping, and the healers left to watch over them through the night, making certain that nobody rolled over in their sleep, or bled through their bandages, or went too long without water or food.

"How many more days like this do you suppose we'll see?" She posed the question as she pushed away from the pole and stretched her arms over her head. "Ten? Twenty?"

"One at a time."

She laughed, the first genuine one all day. "We don't get enough credit, do we? I should get paid more to save lives, you know?"

"At least new clothes," Priscilla said lightly, brushing her hand down her own stained garments. "Not everyone realizes it, but the work that we do _is_ strenuous."

"Tsk," she answered, waving a hand dismissively as she turned to enter the tent again. They had bandages to change, cool cloths to administer, and she'd promised Sir Oswin that she would give him more of her time. "What they don't realize is that the real battle occurs right here in this tent."

* * *

…_**xOx…**_

**Author Notes:**

Ain't it the truth?

_Up Next:__ "An Orphan's Life"_  
Theme #75: Night


	49. An Orphan's Life: Lucius, Serra

**An Orphan's Life****  
By: Manna

* * *

**

…_**xOx…**_

The Fire Emblem 100 Challenge!**  
Theme #75: "Night"  
Starring: Lucius, Serra****  
Genre: Friendship, Introspective**  
**Warnings: **_**Rated T

* * *

**_

…_**xOx…**_

It was during the darkest hours of the evening that Lucius's thoughts began to wander. His bed was always a few degrees too cold, his lungs always a few breaths too short. Some might have said that he was getting old, and perhaps he was, but no, he had been that way from the beginning, a child born into a world that wasn't quite ready for him.

The orphanage he'd always needed—yes, _needed_—was his, after many long years of waiting. It wasn't as grand or elegant as he'd always hoped it would be, but it was small and tidy, and it served its purpose.

It saddened him to see how many children were alone in the world. No, never alone, never _truly_ alone, but oh, he knew they felt that they were, felt it in every bone of their body and every tear that gathered in their soulful young eyes, eyes that had glimpsed the ugliest side of the world before they were ready to.

Or, perhaps, as his case had been, the deepest, darkest bowels of Earth were simply not ready for the trusting, loving heart of a child.

Because only children can give unconditional love, the kind that requires no rules or regulations, no understanding of what is right and what is wrong.

It was hard, sometimes, to know what those who were so young had already suffered, to see and hear everything without a single word having been uttered.

He felt the weight on his bed before the soft touch of fingertips on his shoulder, but both startled him, and he turned over to see his longtime friend and companion beside him, her legs dangling over the edge of the bed, her thin robe fisted at the front as she moved her hand to his face.

A sense of peace fell over him, and he sighed, lifting his hand to touch hers, lightly, holding it against his cheek as he let his eyes close for a long moment. "Sister Serra," he said finally, gently, lovingly. "What brings you here?"

She smiled at him and leaned down, brushing his bangs aside before pressing a kiss against his forehead. "You," she told him, matter-of-factly. Her lips tickled his ear as she continued in a whisper, "I used to be the _best_ healer around, you know."

"I will be fine."

She gave him another smile, but it wasn't nearly as pretty as the first, and she pulled away before throwing him the _most_ disapproving glare that she could muster. "I've known you for too long to believe that stuff 'n' nonsense."

Her huffing made him feel…he wasn't sure. He could never be completely sure about anything wherever Serra was concerned except for one thing. Her heart was in the right place; he knew that.

"Now, I know that no amount of blankets will take the chill out of your bones, but…" And she stood, made her way out of his room, and back again, arms full of blankets he knew were from her own bed, because the orphanage didn't have any extras.

"I can't," he protested, but she ignored him and draped the few blankets over him, tucking them in close around his legs and neck before sitting back on the edge of the bed. "Really, Sister Serra…"

"Just Serra, again, please," she murmured, the lines around her eyes suddenly noticeable in the moonlight. By Saint Elimine, they were both getting older. He wasn't sure why the thought only depressed him.

"Serra," he replied automatically.

"Now just rest," she told him, pressing her hand against his heart gently. "I'll be here."

He knew there would be no arguing with her. They were both very different people, he and Serra, but they understood one another better than anyone else ever could. They had both been born before the world was ready for them, and they had suffered because of it.

But perhaps, because they had lived an orphan's life, they knew exactly how to help heal the hearts of the children that had been broken, just as theirs had so many years ago.

* * *

…_**xOx…**_

**Author Notes:**

When I see Lucius and Serra together, this is what I picture.

_Up Next: __"Dependability"_  
Theme #57: Money


	50. Dependability: Dart, Farina

**Dependability  
By: Manna

* * *

**

…_**xOx…**_

The Fire Emblem 100 Challenge!**  
Theme #57: "Money"  
Starring: Dart, Farina****  
Genre: Friendship**  
**Warnings: **_**Rated T

* * *

**_

…_**xOx…**_

They were a strange pair, a former mercenary and a former pirate. She took every opportunity to say that it was all a wild goose chase. But he always laughed that ridiculous laugh of his, and told her that the chase was the part that was the most fun, anyway. In turn, she was in the habit of ignoring him for a few minutes before she bothered to lift her shoulders in a nonchalant shrug.

He was queer that way, she supposed. The thrill for him was the race, the winning…but he didn't care what winning got him in the end. Participating—or even simply being the winner was good enough.

"Us, we'd make a good story, don't you think?" He was warming his hands over a small fire. That was the price a person paid for treasure hunting in the dead of winter. Numb fingertips, that's what.

"What? A strange pair on an even stranger journey?" She moved a little closer to him, her teeth chattering, her small frame making a futile attempt to shove him out of her way. "Move over, you lug, you're hogging all the heat to yourself."

"As if I'd move over for you," he grumbled, but after a moment's hesitation, he scooted a fraction of an inch to the right, and she filled the space almost immediately. "I thought Ilian wenches were used to the cold."

"Watch who it is you're calling a wench." There wasn't any malice in her voice. She doubted that she had the strength to be angry, anyway, as worn down as she was. "Just you remember who has the map."

"I have it mem'rized, anyhow." The evening was cold, bitterly so, and it was unfortunate that neither of them realized where it was they were. For all they knew, they could be in the mountains of Bern, or the valleys on Etruria. One thing was for certain, though: they were far from the flat plains of Sacae or the scorching sands of the Nabata Desert.

Silence fell between them, but it wasn't awkward, just quiet, only broken by the sounds of the warm fire that crackled between them. Both were disappointed that the blaze offered little warmth.

Finally, she interrupted the snap of the flames, her voice thoughtful, "Are you really going to bury all that money?"

"Yep. And whaddaya gonn' do 'bout it?"

"Nothin'." She sighed and gave up holding her hands over the fire. Her fingers still poked through her tatty gloves, and she held them beneath her arms, fisting them in the thin fabric of her scarf.

It wasn't like her to be so gentle, he realized. "What is it, Far'na?" Turning his head to the side, he sneezed, his eyes lifting from the warmth near him just long enough to catch her gaze.

"I didn't say anything."

"That's what be worryin' me." He took the time to look down as he let his hand rest on her knee, and he realized just how worn her clothes were. Why, her stockings were hardly suitable to be wearin' in such weather! "You be wantin' that money?" It wasn't said in an accusing tone, but he could see her stiffen, regardless.

"'Course I do," she replied, her voice tinted with anger. "But I know you won't g-give it to me. I just…"

"Ya just…what?"

"It's just… It's an awful waste, Dart. A real awful waste."

"Your talkin's getting' just 'bout as bad as me." He grinned, though his own scarf hid it from her view, but he could hardly retain it with the state of her clothes at the front of his mind. "I suppose…we could keep a li'l bit. J'st fer new things we need."

She rewarded him with a smile of her own, a nervous one that he found hard to believe. But by the beauty of the sea, she was lovely, even all bundled up and half-frozen! "You mean that?"

"'Course." He shrugged and patted her knee reassuringly. "Won't do us no good t' find all thet treasure jest to die of starvation!"

"No, I meant…"

"What?" Confused, he moved his other hand to her face, touching her wind-chapped cheekbone with fingertips that he couldn't even feel. "You meanin' something diff'rent?"

She swallowed, and blinked those large blue eyes of hers at him. "The _we_ part. It won't be…you takin' some money, or me takin' some money, but…"

"We be takin' it."

"Together?"

He laughed, that ridiculous one that drove her nuts because it reminded her of those days and nights aboard the _Davros_, the horrible _hee-haw_ing of the other sailors that went on all night, and only got louder with ale on their tongues. "As together as salt and the sea, wench."

* * *

…_**xOx…**_

**Author Notes:**

I'll bet Farina and Dart had some epic adventures. I would write about them, but I don't know if I could pull it off. Thoughts? Also, halfway to 100!


	51. Realization: Hector, Florina

**Realization **  
**By: Manna

* * *

**

**…_xOx…_**

The Fire Emblem 100 Challenge!**  
Theme #94: "Handsome"  
Starring: Hector, Florina****  
Genre: Romance**  
**Warnings: **_**Rated K+

* * *

**_

**…_xOx…_**

Until now, she's never bothered to give men much thought—positively, at any rate—and so she is surprised to feel drawn to the very same man who saved her life mere months ago, not because he saved her life, of course, but because of the way he looks this very moment, this instant, with the rising sun casting its golden light across his hair and face.

The sudden brightness makes him squint. He pulls one of his hands up to shield his eyes, and she finds herself smiling as he sighs and blinks to clear his vision. His hair is sticking up in every possible direction, and as he turns to give a grumpy greeting to Ly—err, Lady Lyndis—she notices that his shirt is half tucked into his pants, his belt isn't fastened, and he doesn't have his precious axe.

_A brute is what he is_, Lyn told her once. _He's a danger to his own allies._

At the time, she'd absently agreed with her longtime friend, but now she wonders if it's entirely true.

She listens as Lyn insults his state of dress—he does look rather sloppy, so maybe he deserves it—and she realizes something. Without his armor and his axe, he looks small, like she feels all of the time. She's never seen Kent or Marcus or Eliwood unprepared, and to see Hector as defenseless as she's ever seen him makes her feel…strangely secure.

He's not some kind of all-powerful god.

He is just a man.

And she thinks that maybe—just maybe—she can approach him if she thinks of him that way.

* * *

**…_xOx…_**

**Author Notes:**

I'm going to leave writing Hector/Florina to Forced Simile, I think. I'm not very good at this.


	52. A Pirate's Life: Jake, Anna

**A Pirate's Life****  
By: Manna

* * *

**

…_**xOx…**_

The Fire Emblem 100 Challenge!**  
Theme #54: "Wait For Me"  
Starring: Jake, Anna****  
Genre: Romance, Angst**  
**Warnings: **_**Rated T

* * *

**_

…_**xOx…**_

The sun was rising the first time he asked her to wait for him.

She still remembers the light of daybreak against her bare skin and the shift of weight as he crawled out of bed and leaned over her to run his fingers through her hair.

"You'll wait for me, won't you, Anna?" he always asks, asked over and over, what seems like a million times.

"Of course I will," she always answers, and the golden halo of light against her fiery red hair makes him smile.

It's hard to wait, but she's been doing it for so long that she's not sure what her life might be like without it. He tells her that he loves her, that he wants to marry her, but then he asks her to wait again.

She wonders what it might be like to wake up after the sun is high in the sky, what it might be like to roll over to find him there, his arms around her, to smell sea-salt and the ocean breeze on the skin of the man she loves.

But they don't have that kind of relationship, and with the passage of time, she finds herself doubting they ever will.

The sun is shining in her eyes, so she can't see the deck of the _Davros_. She can't see him lifting cargo to take down into the hold. But she can hear him, his voice, sounding just like it had that morning at the break of dawn.

"You'll wait for me, won't you?"

"Of course I will!" So she waves goodbye to him from the dock with a ratty handkerchief in her hand and a smile on her face that passes for genuine.

And she hopes—and prays—that he'll return to her safely, and that next time, he'll stay.

* * *

…_**xOx…**_

**Author Notes:**

That needed to be written.


	53. What the Future Holds: Hector, Florina

**What the Future Holds **  
**By: Manna

* * *

**

…_**xOx…**_

The Fire Emblem 100 Challenge!**  
Theme #65: "Beard"  
Starring: Hector****  
Genre: General, Humor**  
**Warnings: **_**Rated T

* * *

**_

…_**xOx…**_

That blasted dream was one that he couldn't seem to shake.

The children in the dream didn't really bother him…much. Admittedly, if that redheaded snippet was the future son of Eliwood… Well, he'd have to do his best to keep the boy away from the beautiful little girl that he knew would be his. Saint Elimine's rocking chair be damned to a fiery hell, he already hated the idea of his friend's future son stealing his future daughter away.

But…if the boy really _was_ Eliwood's son, things couldn't be all bad. The kid'd probably be so well-behaved that, well, nothing would happen anyway.

Losing his little girl to romance wasn't the part that fazed him, not at all.

No, the dream clung to him like wet clothing because of one horrific thing: the beard.

Yes, that fluffy, crazy, out-of-control _beard_.

Eliwood would laugh if he saw it. Lyn would tell him that it made him look like the deranged brute that he really was. Farina would probably want to tear it from his face (to no doubt sell for profit, though he had no idea who would pay for the hideous thing).

He shuddered as he sat alone in front of the campfire in the middle of the night. Suddenly, he spotted Florina. She was probably on her way back to her bedroll, he thought.

He raised his hand. "Hey, Florina!"

She came to a stop, her eyes wide as she turned to look at him. "Y-Yes?"

"What do you think about beards?" He didn't care how crazy he sounded at the moment, though he knew he'd feel differently later.

"Uhm," she looked confused, but answered with a helpful, "They look good on some men?"

"Thanks," he said, and she scampered off.

Hmm, well.

Maybe the beard wasn't so bad after all, now that he thought about it.

* * *

…_**xOx…**_

**Author Notes:**

What. This is practically canon! (Kidding, of course! But it was fun.)


	54. A Sword's Slumber: Mani Katti

**A Sword's Slumber **  
**By: Manna

* * *

**

…_**xOx…**_

The Fire Emblem 100 Challenge!**  
Theme #62: "Unreachable Thoughts"  
Starring: Mani Katti****  
Genre: Who Knows?**  
**Warnings: **_**Rated T

* * *

**_

…_**xOx…**_

So there I was, minding my own business, when all of a sudden, I'm ripped out of my peaceful dreams by a maniac who came to the random decision to wield me as a weapon in the name of… himself. Not justice or peace or tranquility.

He seemed shocked that I wouldn't leave the scabbard, but the priest didn't. Seriously, man, I've been here for practically forever, and you pick the middle of a beautiful dream to wake me up? Blast! I had no qualms about staying right where I was for another century-long nap if that's how long it took for this twat to die.

As far as I go, I'm a patient sword.

And picky, too, but you can't blame me for that. Some swords are weak—they'll cut the flesh of any old person for their wielder. Me? I do what I want.

I was all settled in when the noise stopped. I'll admit, my curiosity was piqued. Did the priest go all hand-to-hand combat and defeat the twat who wanted to wield me? (I was kind of hoping he had.)

But no, he hadn't.

In fact, I was (once again) surrounded by strangers. The priest was holding me ever so gently in his arms—which was kind of creepy, but hey—and he offered to let one of the people present touch me and pray. Great. Well, it wasn't so bad, really. I proudly sat in my scabbard—it was a big honor to be able to touch me and pray for a safe journey, right? Of course! Not just any old fool was allowed to do that.

Then I realized that the fingers touching me belonged to a woman. How did I know? Well, that's my secret. I peeked out of my scabbard just the smallest bit to take a look. And wow—I was not disappointed!

The people that were with her were, well, not interesting at all, but the one touching me was something special.

It was probably the most exciting thing that had happened to me in a few centuries, I'll admit. I might have accidentally let it show, because the next thing I knew, I was feeling a draft and I saw her face up close and personal. (Again, this was not a bad thing. Those lips were nice to look at!)

The priest mumbled some crap, which I didn't pay attention to (because _hello_, I had better things to keep my attention), and the woman holding me looked shocked and then embarrassed.

The next thing I knew, I was swinging from her hip, bumping against her leg with every step, and grinning like a fool the entire time. (I think the knights were jealous of me, but I can't say I blame them. I am rather shiny.)

So now I fight the battles and I get the girl…every night. She sleeps with me by her side, which definitely makes the knights jealous. I can see the way they watch me. Jealousy does not become them. (Don't hate me 'cause you ain't me!)

* * *

…_**xOx…**_

**Author Notes:**

This is how it really happened.


	55. Property: Serra, Priscilla, Erk

**Property****  
By: Manna

* * *

**

**…-…-…**

The Fire Emblem 100 Challenge!  
**Theme #64: "Escort"  
Starring: Serra, Priscilla, Erk  
Genre: Friendship, Humor**  
**Warnings: **_**Rated T

* * *

**_

**…-…-…**

There was something disconcerting about what Serra saw happening right before her very eyes. They were close. _Too_ close. Her eyebrows lowered as her lips pressed together in a pout.

It just wasn't fair! He had been her escort first. He'd been paid handsomely for his work. So why was he in love with Priscilla?

She'd refused to hang around the tittering redhead, and so she knew very little about her, but Serra always made it a point to surround herself by people that were less attractive than she was…if she could help it.

Priscilla's pretty face had nothing to do with Erk, though, unless he himself thought it so, and Serra doubted that someone like Erk would be attracted to someone who was so very flighty.

When her—_her_, not Priscilla's—escort finally pulled his head away from the other girl and left, Serra made her move. She'd have to straighten the other healer out—if she didn't do it, who would? Someone had to take charge and tell the other girl what was what!

Shoulders back, the pious Serra marched over, and, finger pointed at her new arch-rival, exclaimed, "He was _my_ escort first!"

Priscilla smiled after the suddenness wore off and tilted her head to the side, a small smile creeping on her face, "So Erk finds himself escorting a lot of healers! Fascinating."

Confused, Serra tried again, "I like him because he's neat and tidy." She accentuated her words by giving a firm nod, hands going to her hips.

"It is an admirable trait. But wouldn't you agree he's intellectual and kind?"

"Kind?" Serra tried to remember the last time Erk had been kind toward her. Nothing came to mind, but it didn't matter. "He's very awkward."

"I think it's endearing, don't you?" Priscilla's finger touched her lower lip thoughtfully. "When he doesn't know what to say and he kind of just freezes? Or stammers?"

"B-But Erky never stammers around me!" Serra wasn't sure if she should be jealous or not.

"He doesn't? Oh, then he must be comfortable around you! How did you do that?" She leaned forward, elbows on her knees, chin in her hands, and blinked curiously. "Every time I get too close to him he just locks up as if I'll stab him with my hair accessory!"

Serra's chest puffed out almost against her will as a grin spread across her face. "Oh, that's _easy_," she found herself saying. "Erky is very reserved, and he doesn't think for himself very often, so you must think for him!"

"But…how does one do that?"

"Well…" Serra plucked the feather from behind Priscilla's ear and dropped it on the grass. "Oh no! How_ever_ did that happen! And your hands! Full of staves!"

Suddenly, Priscilla found several healing staves shoved into her hands. She took them, but looked utterly confused.

Serra smirked. Soon, she would understand. "Oh, Erky!" she called. "Erk! How could you let a delicate lady like Priscilla even _think_ about bending down to pick that up? It's improper! It's…it's terrible! And after all she's done to help this army! Can't you at least do one little nice thing for her?"

Erk stumbled over, looking out of sorts. "Serra," he said, his voice clipped and detached. "Must you blather on so?" It was about that moment when he saw the feather looking terribly out of place on the dirty earth. "L-Lady Priscilla!" he said, his face reddening ever-so-slightly. "Here, let me get that for you!"

He bent to retrieve it and held it out.

Serra gave a wink to Priscilla, who fluttered her eyelashes and looked down.

"Could you put it back for me?" she asked softly, tilting her head to the side so that he could do as she asked.

He hesitated, but quickly tucked it behind her ear before looking toward the side. "I, uh, promised to teach Nino her letters," he said, and fled faster than Florina from Sain.

"See what I mean?" Serra said smartly. "It works like a charm!"

"Oh, thank you so much! I never would have guessed…" Priscilla smiled sweetly at her as she got to her feet and started for the healer's tent. "I understand, now. But oh, I must go check on Sir Lowen. In the last battle, he took a terrible blow, and if I don't keep an eye on him, he'll be unable to keep from getting out of bed to check on the preparation of the evening meal!"

Serra chuckled. "Erky is neat and tidy, but all you need to remember is that he needs someone to order him around a bit now and again!"

"It certainly can't hurt!" Oh, and Serra?" the other girl said. "You're a lot sweeter in nature than some of the others have said. You should show that side of yourself more often!" A moment later, and Priscilla was gone.

Exactly three minutes later, Serra stopped. "Hey!" she said aloud, drawing the attention of at least three confused knights. "He was _my_ escort first!"

* * *

**…-…-…**

**Author Notes:**

Sometimes it's best not to ask. Priscilla and Serra would make a scary team. They could teach one another so much. The men in the army would probably be doomed. (I didn't forget about this collection. But I had to find my notebook where all this drivel was written down.)


End file.
